Hetalia: Hell's Tango
by Bai-Marionette
Summary: AU The young male was often seen in one of the girls' dresses, singing atop a piano. That's how he found him. He was beautiful; pure, ripe for the taking. However, he couldn't bring himself to silence that pretty voice…Demon!GermanyxFlapper!Italy
1. Dark Corners

**Hell's Tango**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** AU The young male was often seen in one of the girls' dresses, singing atop a piano. That's how he found him. He was beautiful; pure, ripe for the taking. However, he couldn't bring himself to silence that pretty voice…Demon!GermanyxFlapper!Italy

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

**Recommended Listening: **"Candy man" by Christina Aguilera

**.:Chapter One:.**

_Dark Corners_

_**[Feliciano]**_

He had decided to dress up today, for work, and though he was gaining more unnecessary attention when he fluffed his skirt. The brilliant crimson and white lace went well against his sun-kissed skin. Long legs exposed to the world, clear of hair to keep up the feminist façade, were crossed at the ankles of sleek black heels.

He winked to the pianist, who blushed, but Feliciano paid the flushed man little mind. He wasn't interested. He was only here to pretend and sing. That was he was told he was being paid for. He wouldn't do anything more. He didn't want to get in trouble.

Feliciano was humming, his soft voice fitting his pretended role well, as his fingers were parted behind him. He had grown out his russet hair to fit his role to where it swished attractively over his shoulder with deep waves and adorable curls at the tips.

The curl over his head accented his heart-shaped face as said head began to sway softly, moving his hair ever so gently. A few words, his Italian accent giving it an appeal not found with American women, came beautifully off his tongue.

His voice caressed the ears of all those in the gentleman's club. Feliciano leaned further backwards, his skirt hiking higher and earning a few whistles as words began to slide effortlessly from his lips. His amber eyes were closed now but at a certain lyrics, they opened slowly and he tried to seem graceful as he slid up on the piano on the sides of his knees.

More of the slow song poured forth from his pink lips as more men began to eye him with more than just admiration for his song. But Feliciano paid them little mind. He was only in America to sing and earn enough money to save his grandfather and older brother from working at the grim factories in Italy.

If these men could help him pay for his family's ticket to America, he might consider listening to them. But as it stood now, he was only there, posing as a pretty girl with makeup and a nice dress. He was only there as an image for the club, not a whore like the other girls.

He wouldn't dare that piece of himself to them. He wanted to save it for someone who would actually give a damn about him in the morning when all was said and done. He didn't want to give himself to someone who never even remembers his name afterwards and he didn't want that one night to be just that. One night, no strings attached.

He didn't want to be a part of their past, when all was said and done.

So he kept singing, when the soft and slow melody was over, Feliciano stood as he held his skirt together like the girls taught to do when he stood. His heels clicking sharply on the strong piano's shiny surface, he smiled at the crowd.

One swish, he thought as he allowed one hand to flap a dress end. A cheer was started as the pianist caught his faux smile and played a faster tune. Feliciano began singing again, his native accent playing over the words and giving the men a greater experience as he danced onstage.

That's what he was being paid for, to flap his skirt and sing. No sex and no getting involved with anyone there. To him, those were very simple terms for what he was doing. He felt more respect well in him as he saw more men leave with the other girls, the one who were the actual whores.

Feliciano only acted as a whore as he flapped his skirt and twirled, kicking his feet the right ways and dancing as lyrics poured forth from his lips. His hair swished and bounced around his face and Feliciano tossed his head to throw it over his shoulder. Glad he hadn't chosen to wear a wig as men applauded neat the end of the grand show.

_And now the stupid finale_, Feliciano thought. This was the part where he was supposed to flirt with the men. Feliciano took his time, as he gathered his skirts, still singing about the handsome sweetheart he had never known as he slid gracefully off the piano.

The pianist caught the look and Feliciano thought he saw him sigh a little. Neither of them liked this part. But Feliciano had to pretend he did. It was part of his job. At least it was only one, Feliciano said, trying to stay positive.

He made his way down the front steps of the stage as the light followed him. He kept singing as he tried to appear sexy and seductive like he saw the other girls do. He walked to one man, a blonde with ice-blue eyes. He had been in the dark for a while, nursing a beer, but as Feliciano made his way towards him, he put his beer down to raise a brow.

Feliciano circled the blonde, taking in the pale skin and how cold his eyes seemed. How the man's hair was near butter-yellow. Feliciano thought he could keep up his pretend with this one and kept with him as he sang a song again on an imaginary sweetheart who loved to take care of his every needs.

_I wish I had someone like that_, Feliciano thought sadly but he kept up the pretense of a smile as he walked his slim fingers along the blonde's shoulders. The blonde didn't stop him, as Feliciano expected from a man in a gentleman's club, but he didn't seem to be interested either.

Feliciano felt a jolt of spite towards the blonde male. Every other man who would have his eyes glued to Feliciano but this one wasn't paying him any mind. _As if he didn't matter at all!_

Feliciano sang a few of the softer notes in the blonde's ear, watched as the man only grunted and nursed the beer he had ordered from the bar. Feliciano tried harder to pull a reaction as he pressed slow circles in the blonde's back and purred more sweetness and his accent into his words.

He was swaying his hips in a slow motion to get his dress to flutter as he did a slow walk around the male. He was now gently massaging the tension from the blonde's shoulder and just as Feliciano pulled away as the song started to come to a close, Feliciano thought he saw a flash of black dart through the man's eyes.

He felt fear spike in him but he covered up the goose bumps he was feeling at the blonde's intense gaze and at how the blonde had turned in his seat to watch him.

Feliciano felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as he twirled and danced away. Not even showing any kind of fear to the other men, he gathered his skirts as he hopped back onstage. His heart was racing his chest as he could still feel the ice-blue eyes watching him from the dark corner of the room.

Feliciano giggled as he found some solace beside the pianist. He cupped his white-gloved hands over his mouth and then puckered his lips as he blew a kiss to the crowd of me. They all cheered, but for the blonde in the back, and Feliciano felt a chill go down his spine.

He smiled as he winked at the crowd, "You all are so good to me! I wish I could please you all night~" A following cheer and some man calling out, "Wish granted, Feli, I would enjoy you all night!"

Feliciano faked another giggle and a small blush as he waved his hand. The men loved to see him blush and giggle for whatever reason. But the man's remark made Feliciano want to gag. _As if_, he thought, _I would _**ever** _let you have _**any**_ part of me in your grasp._

"Oh you~" Feliciano teased, as he fluttered his long lashes. "You are such a womanizer. Should I make breakfast in the morning for you too?" Another cheer and round of whistles that made Feliciano feel empty inside.

He didn't care for these men at all. He wished he could have one that didn't like him for his voice or his dances. He didn't want any of these men; he didn't want to meet his future lover at his sorry and embarrassing excuse for a job.

He wanted someone who he would be proud to write home about. One that would help make the nights he worked more enjoyable as he anticipated coming home to open arms and possibly rose petals on the bed sheets.

One he wouldn't mind giving himself to whenever the mood had been raised. One he wouldn't have to lie to please, where he didn't have to dress as a woman to gain their attention. A man who was kind, instead of just horny, and would not look at him, for a quick release like a whore, someone who actually cared about his problems and about how much he missed Italy. Where he didn't have to flirt with them because that was what his job entitled him to do and he was being paid for.

He just wanted someone sincere after being alone for so long and being promised a better life in America to only find he had to work his ass off as a damn woman to get it.

Feliciano faked another giggle as he saw the blonde cock his head as another blonde whispered in his ear. The original blonde then caught his eyes and Feliciano knew he paled under his pretty-girl makeup when the second blonde grinned at him.

Feliciano had seen sharp teeth, animal teeth, right before both men disappeared into thin air. Leaving behind nothing but a faint impression in the chair that somewhere in time someone had sat there and a small wad of bills on the bar for the one beer Feliciano had seen the original blonde been nursing all night.

Feliciano smiled as he waved good-bye to the crowd but just as he went into the dark space backstage, he heard it. It was faint and sounded as if it was coming from inside his head and yet somehow somewhere in the distance. It was a laugh.

Feliciano wasted no time clocking out and leaving the club. That he had been in such a rush that he had left in his flapper clothes and heels, and it didn't help as he caught a few suggestive glances from nearly every man on the dark streets. But he kept walking, well he did, that is, until—

"Hey look, Ernie, lookie at the pretty little lady in red walking home all alone."

Feliciano felt his heart speed up as he pretended to ignore the voices behind as he held his black satchel tighter. _Come on_, he thought, _come on, you stupid light, change color_.

"I wonder who would let her do that."

"Please change color," Feliciano begged the crosswalk silently. He was going to scream if the men even dared touch him. He was going to scream and kick and run like the very devil was at his heels. But if the light didn't change, the cars would keep going and he would certainly be killed.

He shifted his stance from one foot to the other before he had even known he was doing it. When he realized he had accidentally flapped his skirt, he had already heard a low whistle from behind him. His amber eyes all but showed his fear as he kept praying for the light to change.

Feliciano assumed the light was broken. That he turned on the wrong street to meet a broken light and that he would have to wait for someone on the road to realize it and stop the cars so he could walk across and take the last few corners to his apartment where he could be safe and at some form of peace.

"He's an idiot, if I've ever seen one."

I hope this light get beat to pieces by savage birds and turned into a nest, Feliciano thought grimly. He did not like how it seemed as if the men behind him had moved closer and he certainly didn't like how his hands were getting sweaty inside his gloves and he was starting to fiddle with his hair as an excuse to preoccupy his mind.

It was a wrong choice, because the moment he had done so, his body acted as its own control. It thought Feliciano was back onstage. Subconsciously cocking a hip and slightly swaying with a soft hum lifted from his lips, Feliciano's body tried to ease his fear with movements that he used onstage at the club when he was nervous.

But the reaction from the men told Feliciano it had been a wrong movement as one gave a low and appreciative whistle. "Very nice, miss, tell me, where you headed this fine night?"

_Nowhere with you_, Feliciano wanted to snarl but he bit back his tongue. He saw no need to say what his brother would, had he been in his place, so he used said, sweetly, "I'm going home after work. I'm meeting someone there."

_Yeah_, Feliciano continued in his thoughts_, my cat, Teri_. The men shared a look as Feliciano turned back around. He had thought the conversation was over. But one man stepped forward to take one of his hands. He tipped his hat as he kissed Feliciano's palm.

Feliciano felt fear spike his gut as the hairs on the back of his neck. He chuckled, feeling both fearful and uneasy, as he tried to reject the man's advances as politely as he could. "Ve, I'm sorry, but while I appreciate your flattering, it's unwanted."

The man grinned as he stepped closer, "Is it really?"

Yes, Feliciano wanted to bark, so leave me alone. The young Italian wished he could mean but he knew it wasn't in him to be cruel to anyone. That was his older brother, Romano. He never knew e had depended so heavily on Romano to defend him against others until he had come to America, alone.

Being alone meant Romano was only with him in spirit, in a sense, and not physically there to tell others to leave him alone when Feliciano was about to get hurt. His grandfather had defended him when he was older, when Romano would leave to work long hours at the factory and not return to their farm until late at night.

His grandfather kept at bay, any men or strange women who came to the door asking for Feliciano. The young Italian never knew what they came for but his grandfather and Romano did and they never told him why they came or what they wanted him for. They just said to avoid them at all costs and stay away from the dark corners.

_Speaking of corners_, Feliciano thought, _this one is getting darker. The streetlight is broken_. The young Italian frowned as he finally saw the crack in it and decided he would find a different route home. One with better lighting, he knew that would allow him to find a better place to wait to cross the street.

He was about to turn to walk away when the other man, the one Feliciano had thought had gone away, came forward to take his other hand. "Miss," he began, "you shouldn't walk home alone."

Feliciano felt his heart rate spike when the man's grip tightened on his hand. "It's dark and someone could snatch you into an even darker alley." Those dark eyes screamed pain for Feliciano, as the man said, "Let me and my boy walk you home."

Feliciano tried to decline the offer. "I-I'll be fine, sir, but thank you for the offer." He realized his mistake too late, his stammer, and his face paled. He tried to tug his hand free but the man didn't budge as his grip tightened even further.

"I don't think you will be fine, miss, let us walk you home." Feliciano wanted to run away. All previous mentions of screaming and kicking and running away fled him. His throat was tight with fear. His legs and feet felt like they were made of lead. And he knew he was whimpering like a scared girl right then.

"I-I just w-want to g-go home," he stammered, "p-please let g-go." The man turned out to be a sick bastard as the other man snickered and said, "When you're done with her, let me have my fun. She's a pretty little thing."

Oh no, Feliciano thought, not here! I just want to go home!

"Will do, Ted," the man smirked as he wrapped an arm around Feliciano's waist. "My, my, miss; you're a bit wide, aren't you?"

Feliciano felt his face flame as he saw himself being forced down the street, which he knew led to a dead end between two brick buildings. _I just wanted to go home_, he wanted to sob as he felt his whimpers turn to soft pleas to let him go free.

He found himself in the alley when he remembered a dirty escape trick his brother had used when someone had tried to touch him. Feliciano stamped on the man's foot with the heel of his boot and made to take off as the man swore.

Feliciano had only enough time to spin on his heel to find another way out when his long hair was snatched and he was pulled back to be slapped across the face.

His cheek throbbed and Feliciano whimpered on the ground as he saw the man stomp towards him. "I was going to go easy on you, you know, make it enjoyable for us," he snarled, "but you, you little bitch, have just pissed me off."

Feliciano felt his heart drop into his stomach. He, a young man, himself, was about to be raped of his innocence in an alley. I am so weak, he thought as he began spewing apologies in Italian. He couldn't think to translate his words to English as he began to sob as he tried to crawl away.

The man grabbed his hair again and Feliciano had to fight in his thoughts to remember why he had thought having long hair would be a good idea. _Oh yeah_, he recalled_, my job, my fucking job as a singer and professional flirt._

Feliciano was openly crying and pleading for mercy if he surrendered as the man broke the straps on his pretty girl dress to force a sleeve to fall down his shoulder and expose part of his chest. Not enough to see he had no chest but enough to still look like he had some he was hiding underneath his fluffy blouse.

The man grinned, "You look good enough to eat, miss."

"I wish I could say the same for you, dear sir."

Feliciano's amber eyes opened just in time to see the man holding him spin to face the blonde man Feliciano had seen at the club he worked. His eyes widened but he only caught a flash of black before he found himself in the blonde's arms and his would-be rapist slumped against the brick wall.

"Are you alright?" The blonde asked and Feliciano blinked through his tears before he rushed to cover himself with the scraps of clothing the man had torn off. He felt embarrassed for some reason as he pressed his lips together so he wouldn't say something he would regret.

"Excuse me, miss," Feliciano flinched at the blonde's words when said man put a hand on his exposed shoulder. The hand was warm, very warm, as if it had just come off a hot stove. The heat contradicted the coldness in his ice-blue eyes.

Feliciano yelped as he scooted away. "I-I'm f-f-fine."

"You don't look fine," the blonde pointed out and Feliciano felt his fear spike higher and his heart soar as he remembered those words coming from his would-be rapist. _I just wanted to go home_, he thought as he scooted farther away. His eyes darted to the limp from of his would-be rapist and he felt a small trickle of guilt go through him. _Was he dead because of him? Maybe he should have just sucked it p and taken the rape—_

"He's not dead, if that's what you're wondering." Feliciano turned back to the blonde. He had stood up from his previous crouch when he had tried to assist Feliciano. Feliciano examined him more closely.

The blonde was tall, taller than him, possibly about six feet or just a few inches short of it. He had his ice-blue eyes that seemed to access everything to analyze its strengths and weaknesses. There was his pale skin and Feliciano noticed that the blonde kept his hair slicked back.

He saw a dark hat with a kind of insignia on it in one of his hands and at the sight of Feliciano seeing it, the blonde pushed it out of sight and behind his back.

Feliciano looked at the blonde's clothes. He wore a small silver-lined black cross that shone in the moonlight against the dark shirt the blonde wore. Dressed else with black pants and dark boots, Feliciano decided lastly to look for any signs of a weapon.

He found no bulges, or small impressions of any but he was on alert. Knives were easy to hide. He knew because his brother often carried plenty, him and his grandfather, but they refused to let Feliciano hold any weapons on his person. They said it was too risky and that Feliciano would accidentally hurt himself.

"I carry no arms to harm you with," the blonde said. Feliciano frowned. _How had he known?_

"Every thought you have pretty much shows up on your face," the blonde said seriously. Feliciano felt his face flush. He remembered his brother saying that to him too.

"Um, could you, uh, help me up?" Feliciano asked. Only one more test to see, he told himself. If the blonde tried anything now, Feliciano would really run like Hell.

"I could do that for you. You seem a bit shaken," The blonde extended an arm and before Feliciano had another chance to think, he was lifted effortlessly onto his feet. He blinked. How had he moved so fast?

_He's really strong_, Feliciano thought. The blonde raised a brow. "No, I'm not, you are just lighter than what I am used to."

Feliciano burn again. He had already forgotten his thoughts show on his expressions. The blonde seemed to smirk but then something white flashed in the distance and the smile fell as the blonde seemed to stand straighter and almost defensively in front of Feliciano.

"I'll walk you home, now," the blonde said and Feliciano nearly started. Fear spiked his blood and he heard the blonde hiss in a breath as he spun quickly on a heel to face Feliciano. "What's wrong?"

Feliciano didn't say anything but took a step back. The blonde's eyes darted to the limp man in the corner and his eyes widened slightly in realization. "Oh," he whispered. He looked down to Feliciano. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to reawaken bad memories. I won't do what they had tried to do to you."

Feliciano hadn't wanted to but he found himself trusting the man's words. Why, he thought as he stepped forward and took the arm extended to him with shaky hands.

He let the blonde walk him home to his apartment with a few directions. On the way there, he caught a few looks but the blonde didn't seem to be paying any mind to the looks he was receiving as Feliciano used him as something to lean on as they kept walking. The heat the blonde gave off was comforting.

"Here we are," Feliciano said as he pulled away. He didn't know why but he felt reluctant to let go of the blonde. "This is my apartment." Feliciano sighed and turned to thank the blonde for escorting him home but when he turned, he was gone.

"Are you coming?"

Feliciano spun and saw the blonde starting up the stairs and looking at everything. Feliciano blinked. He had moved so fast and without even a sound, he realized as he hurried to catch up.

He noticed the blonde didn't make any noise despite how much he should weigh for being that tall and the fact that he was wearing sturdy boots. But here was "light" Feliciano and his heels were causing a racket as he tried to go up the stairs as quickly and quietly as he could.

There's something wrong here, he thought as he came to his floor. He saw the blonde walking down the hall, looking at door numbers and mail boxes. Feliciano walked past the first three doors and came to the fourth where he said for some reason, "It's this one."

The blonde spun on a heel, the moonlight catching on his eyes and making them appear nearly white. "Oh, ja, yes, of course." He said and followed silently. Feliciano absorbed the little info he had just learned.

Ja was German for yes, he knew. The city held a few Germans and Feliciano knew one downstairs that made those strange-looking but tasty sausages.

_He's German_; he thought as he took his key from his satchel and unlocked his door. He heard a small scratching and when he opened his door, his orange tabby cat, Teri, slid through the slight opening to purr and rub against Feliciano's legs.

"Teri, you naughty kitty," Feliciano teased as he picked up the cat. "Were you waiting for me again?" The cat purred and when the blonde came from out of the shadows, Teri reacted to his presence with a sudden purr as she leaped from Feliciano to the floor to purr and rub against the blonde's feet.

The blonde seemed slightly startled, at first, but he took the cat up with gentleness despite wearing a confused frown as he held the cat wrong. Teri purred nonetheless as her tail swished back and forth. Her gold eyes watched the blonde carefully.

"Teri!" Feliciano cried as he tried to take her back. The cat grunted in displeasure as she was taken back from the blonde. "I'm sorry," he began, as he held the cat. "She doesn't usually jump at strangers like that."

'It's quite alright," the blonde said slowly as he peeked inside Feliciano's house through the open door. He saw the comfortable living room and a bit of the redone kitchen but nothing else and turned back to look at Feliciano. "All animals seem to like me, though I consider myself more a dog person."

Feliciano nodded though he felt a slight piece of him feel disappointed. _Did that mean he didn't like Teri?_

"Your cat is beautiful, though," the blonde said as he scratched behind the tabby's ears and made her purr. Feliciano smiled in response. _Maybe he did like Teri._

Then the blonde stiffened again as his eyes caught on something near where they had come in. He stood straighter. "I have to go, miss." He said with a respectful nod of his head. He turned to leave and Feliciano blurted, "It's Feliciano."

The blonde stopped and looked back, "That's Italian."

Feliciano nodded, parts of his face burning. _How had he known_? "Yes, yes it is."

The blonde nodded, "I am Ludwig."

Ludwig, Feliciano thought as he mentally rolled that his tongue, that was an old name. He didn't know any Germans here named Ludwig.

Ludwig turned back to the opening and seemed to frown. "I have to leave now, but I hope to see you again, Feliciano."

Feliciano found himself hoping as well. "Alright, you too, be safe."

Ludwig stopped again and smiled thinly, "Shouldn't I be telling you that?"

Feliciano found his face burning at the sarcastic remark and just as he made a move to say a line of his own, he turned to see the blonde gone but his laughter hanging faintly in the air. _Whoa_, he thought, _how-when-what_.

**Nothing was adding up in his mind.**

"What just happened?" he asked the air.

The air didn't answer after awhile and he went inside his mind, thinking he had imagined the whole thing. But as he readied for bed, he found a garnet chain in the front pocket of his satchel. It was pretty and he found a note attached to it, written in neat handwriting was: _Keep it. Red looks well on you._

Feliciano felt his face flush in embarrassment. That was the first compliment he had received outside of work without a man trying to get something from him. An actual compliment, he realized, and a pretty gift to go with it.

He smiled and lifted his long hair to ease the necklace on. It was warm, like the blonde German, Ludwig, was, and he found himself smiling more as he looked in his mirror to see that Ludwig was right. Red did look good on him. He would keep the pretty jewelry and even wear it to work tomorrow.

It was as Feliciano settled down for bed, with Teri in his arms, that he didn't see the red eyes watching him with a wide grin from the window.

"Ludwig," the red-eyed demon said, "You are so busted, falling for a human like that." The white-haired demon chuckled as he walked on the air like stair steps to the bottom floor where he looked up at Feliciano's window. "I wonder how long you can keep your secret."

**:3 I have always wanted to do a GerIta fanfic. They're just soooo cute together~ **

Yes, Feliciano's a flapper-girl but still male. This is still yaoi~ (I have always imagined Feli in flapper clothes and go: "Ludwig would be the happiest man alive." XDD)

Ludwig as a demon, say whaaaat? And Gilbert as his demonic brother, FTW.

Anyone guess what Romano and Feli's grandfather are hiding?

How many of yhu are thinking that Romano and their granddad don't even work in a factory at all but tell Feliciano that story to hide what they're really doing?

How many ppl will review to tell me to finish this?

**;_; **

**Please review, favorites are nice but reviews are easier for me to see yhu guys like this story idea…**

**Read and ****REVIEW****.**


	2. Private Affairs

**Hell's Tango**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** AU The young male was often seen in one of the girls' dresses, singing atop a piano. That's how he found him. He was beautiful; pure, ripe for the taking. However, he couldn't bring himself to silence that pretty voice…Demon!GermanyxFlapper!Italy

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

Author Alert:

Story alert/ Favorites: **, LuluLovely, DinosaurAttack, BleakDusk, OighearCroi, Guardian of Shadows, The Rose Red Alchemist, ShortSweet'NToThePoint, the Queen of Cookies, Ichi-Ichi, Lady-Prien, blueladymare, otaco**

Reviewer(s)!: **Luna, Noa Nee, , DinosaurAttack, Medea Gorgon, Otterberries, FeliRoma, Lady-Prien**

Luna: Glad you did hun! This is my GerIta story…so I'm still a beginner. So, go easy on me if some details on personalities are a bit off. I love Germany and Italy but I don't work with them often…^^' (LOL, me too. I love demon!Prussia! It just WORKS. :P)

Noa Nee: PLEASE KEEP REVIEWING! XDD

: I actually looked that name up…Google sent me to your fanfic account. LOL. Thankx for reviewing~ *insert heart here*

DinosaurAttack: GerIta is new for me so we're on common ground, there. ;)

Medea Gorgon: *typing with mirror for safety* Omigod! My favorite evil female demon of all time has reviewed my story…and I'm still alive and not stone! W00t! And really, I was doing a research paper on flappers the other day for my cultural class. I just imagined Feliciano and…yeah, I think you get it. (Wait, you're Italian? Your English is very good, at least in my opinion. But then again, my first language was German so, I may be wrong…^^')

Otterberries: (Random Question: Are those real berries?) GerIta isn't my fav-total pairing but I find it cute and this idea brilliant, so I thought: Why the hell not? AND HAVE YOU BEEN STALKING ME? How did you figure it out so fast about the Vargas family? Was I too obvious? Damn…(Prumano? Hehe, a tad much, love, I have NO experience at all with that pairing. Though I did try a RusItafic…I was bored and looking for new flavors. The story was good but the pairing so…weird.) But we shall see about that pairing, love~

ShortSweet'NToThePoint: I really wish I could have that username. That is epic. :D

FeliRoma: I glad you do and I think your username is cute~

Lady-Prien: I would hope not! If you die, then my stories don't get updated! DX (Just kidding, I'm not that selfish. Maybe…possibly…probably...yes. Thank you again, my Lady! ^/^ I hadn't actually believed this story would just take off with just **1** freaking chapter…am I getting famous like you? :/ Hm, I hope not. I may never get any time to read myself…LOL)

**Last chapter exploded my email, guys. You guys rock!**

**Recommended Listening: **"Sally's song" by Amy Lee

**.:Chapter One:.**

_Private Affairs_

_**[Ludwig]**_

He had been walking along All Saint's Avenue, mocking the street sign with a few muttered words of German on the irony of his presence, when a voice called out, "Ludwig!"

He spun, his open black vest flapping in the sudden air he had blown up, his blue eyes flashing full black for a mere half-second as his senses rose in alert. But his other side retreated inwards as he saw Feliciano running in one of her brightly-colored dresses towards him.

Her hair was done in up in an elaborate French braid that accented her face. Her amber eyes were joyful and highlighted alongside her olive-green dress. He could see the lights bounce off the satin material and her gold-strapped heels.

She caught up to him, her flashy appearance catching eyes, mostly men, as she stood beside him. Her hands were clasped in front of her, her smile bright as she said, "Ve, I haven't seen you in a while!"

Ludwig blinked, and then smiled gently. He had been stuck under the Earth's surface in Hell, tending to matters he knew he couldn't disclose to her. No matter how close they were proving to be becoming, Ludwig kept their meetings limited and scarce for a reason. He hoped she would simply assume him as nothing more than a friend.

However…each meeting he finally let happen, her attitude towards him started to shift slowly towards how he knew he was even feeling for her. Maybe even faster, you could suppose but Ludwig would deny it.

As the prince of Hell, he could not even hope to fall for a human. It was not only against the rules for him to keep his title and crown, but it was dangerous. Ludwig had enemies; they were very savage and clever demons that would take either take pleasure in crushing him to emotional pieces as they tear Feliciano right in front of him or worse, tell her lies of what he was and would do.

**That he was a demon that longed for her blood to spill.**

**That he was a demon that didn't care for besides as a source of food and entertainment.**

**That she was nothing to him.**

"Ludwig, ve, it's been a while, hasn't it?" Ludwig snapped himself from his thoughts to answer slowly. Between speaking German in the palace with his brothers and their butler, and with his people, he often forgot there were places that spoke English. "Yes," he said, his lips forming a thin smile. "It has. I've been very busy at home."

"Your wife giving you trouble for staying out late?"

Ludwig blinked, and some of her German accent slipped in, when he said, "What, my what?"

Feliciano's wide eyes took in his reaction but she answered simply, "The ring on your finger. Isn't it a wedding ring?" Ludwig looked down and found only a thin band of gold with thin black serrated edges added in the middle: a cloudy diamond.

"Oh," he realized as he shook his head. "No, I'm not married, it is a family ring."

Feliciano nodded and then turned slightly to begin walking, knowing he would follow. But Ludwig had seen it in her eyes— that look of joy she had tried to hide. She was happy. She was happy he wasn't attached to anyone.

_I can't keep this pretense up much longer;_ he thought as he caught up easily on her heels and accepted the small thread of conversation she opened about her day. _Maybe I can pretend to move away or something_, he suggested in his mind. _Maybe she will believe that._

"And when I had to go off offstage to do my 'flirting," Feliciano continued and Ludwig's interest caught. A small bubble of jealousy and rage began to rise in him before he could stop it and he had to hold his hands behind him to hide how his nails extended into black claws from his emotions.

His attention fully on the small story, he listened and felt his emotions die down as his claws resided as he heard the distaste in Feliciano's voice.

"The guy I chose, this guy who had already been with one of the girls, tried to make me sit in his lap!" Feliciano huffed, her braid thumping at her back. Her eyes expressed her displeasure as she continued, "He had a wedding ring, for crying out loud, yet he was trying to go back with him."

Ludwig chuckled. Amidst Feliciano's story, he had noticed how she let his description slip. That she had found even his name tag from his workplace was superb in his mind as he made a mental note to look up "Fred Thomas" among his sources and drop by his home to pay him a visit.

"You aren't…hurt, are you?"Ludwig began.

Feliciano raised a brow, "No, I don't let them touch me without my permission. It's rude to touch someone unwanted." This girl, Ludwig thought, is so naïve, so pure, how I wish—

He immediately cut off his thoughts before they became dark with the longing he kept putting off but knew was unavoidable. He wanted to mark her as his so badly, it hurt. But he knew he couldn't', that he wasn't supposed to. He wanted the young Italian that he was letting drag him into some late-night diner.

"Come on, Luddy," Feliciano said as she took his gloved hand, gripping the glove despite not knowing it hid the scaly pattern he couldn't easily hide with magic. His interest piqued as he suddenly stopped where he stood and Feliciano was suddenly gripping a strong arm hidden under a long-sleeved dark shirt.

He blinked and he was mentally happy that the bad lighting under a flickering lamppost hid the way his eye color shifted from white circling ice-blue to, for a slight moment, a thin rim of blue against black. "What did you just say?" He asked and at Feliciano's confused blink, he clarified, "What did you call me, just now?"

Feliciano's face burned as she suddenly let go of his hands. The scales rose as Ludwig felt a slight pinch of regret and hurt when Feliciano pulled away and turned to walk in the diner, without his hand. "It's…nothing, Ludwig, just a nickname I made up for you. You don't have to—

He took her hand, knowing the risk of doing so and smiling in her face anyways. "It's fine, I just have never been called by that name before. Thank you for creating a nickname for me."

Feliciano smiled shyly as he looked at their hands and entwined their fingers. It was a human gesture Ludwig didn't understand but he tried to mimic it by curling his finger tighter. Feliciano winced and he started, suddenly feeling afraid he had done the wrong thing. "What's wrong?"

Feliciano smiled up at him, "You have a strong grip, could you ease up a bit?" Ludwig blinked as he remembered what he was. The longing rose once again and he squashed it before it could cause a physical reaction within him.

"Ja, err, I mean, yes." He eased his grip, looking slightly guilty he had held Feliciano's hand too harshly without a single recollection of his supernatural strength. "Is that better?" The Italian beamed at him, "Yeah! Let's go inside and eat now, 'kay?"

Ludwig smiled back, feeling places in him, once cold, warm slightly at the cheerful she gave him. He let himself be dragged once more, but this time to a vacant table next to a pair of wide windows that gave them a grand view of the multicolor lights and tall lit-up buildings reflect over the dark waters.

Despite the waitress' flirts directed at Ludwig, but Ludwig didn't completely the meaning behind the compliments she was giving him and he gave her some of his own: complimenting her hair and make-up, then the way she addressed her customers, with politeness and respect.

But at one particular compliment the waitress gave to Feliciano involving the way he walked, something on "large swagger", Feliciano deliberately placed her hand over Ludwig's hand.

The hand was the exact one Feliciano knew where Ludwig's family ring sat as she let the waitress see and suddenly become embarrassed. Then, she said innocently, as she asked something about what kind of flowers they should get.

The waitress had flushed darkly, Ludwig's attention on Feliciano, as he smiled, not even realizing Feliciano was using him to get rid of the flirting waitress, as she let a slight smug smile show when she ordered a plate of spaghetti with a glass of red wine— something Ludwig hadn't expected from the small underage-looking Italian.

Nonetheless, Ludwig followed the example by ordering something he had though sounded interesting on the human menu. He found no wurst, no herring, or any typical foods he knew, but instead he chose an order of something called a "hamburger and French fries" with the one thing he found familiar on the menu: bier, er, beer.

Ludwig had travelled to France once upon a time, somewhere in his long lifetime, and he had tried French food to know it was enjoyable. Their "fries", whatever that was, couldn't be that bad.

Feliciano chatted with him freely as they waited for the meal to arrive, something Ludwig wasn't used to. He had grown with the attendance of his butler and half a dozen maids, another dozen of nannies, a few chefs and other specialized needs personal at his beck and call.

They were always prepared for whatever he should ask for, meal or cleaning or action, and they obeyed him and did as he asked the moment he asked, bringing his request to life a second later.

Their orders came by a different waiter, the young male excusing the other as he said she was having "a moment to smoke outside". Feliciano's eyes had looked smugger as she took her plate with a multitude of "thank you" which Ludwig noted but did not mimic for once as he nodded at the waiter and said only a formal thank you.

The waiter had reddened nonetheless at his response, blue eyes standing at over his skin as he said he would come back if they needed anything else. Ludwig nodded and Feliciano thanked the waiter again before he left.

Almost immediately, when the waiter's back was turned, Feliciano dived into her food. She was nearly halfway as Ludwig picked his way through the greasy potato sticks called "French fries"._ Funny_, he thought as he bit into one and found it was alright if only a tad too salty than what he would normally care for.

_I didn't know they made these in France_, he thought. _How long has it been since I went there? Maybe I should go again, apparently I didn't get to see them come up with this. They could use a few suggestions for their next meal idea._

He had just started on the other greasy item on his plate, the "hamburger" being a thick beef patty put between two slices of incredibly soft bread and only a few squirts of a tomato juice Feliciano explained as "ketchup".

He finished before Feliciano and turned his eyes back to the window. Feliciano pushed her plate away, satisfied but then she frowned as the waiter brought their bill. She dug into her pockets but discovered she was short.

Ludwig frowned and he took the small slip of paper from her. He eyed the number at the bottom, finding it a _very_ small sum compared to what he usually ate would come up to. He sent a hand inside his vest, finding the hidden pocket and, fingers tracing over various dog-eared and marked bills, he found the right one and placed the amount plus a well tip on the table.

He stood as Feliciano stared at it, but upon his hand asking for hers, she simply rose with a small smile and let herself walk alongside Ludwig.

It was as Ludwig happened to be walking said little female home that he remembered something that should have stood to him in the beginning: Feliciano had had wine.

I must have overlooked it, damn, he thought as he turned to see how the Italian was faring. A small thread of curiosity enticed him to look back and when he did, he saw Feliciano had all but clung to his arm in a poor attempt to remain upright. He raised a brow, he was pretty sure he had more beer than her. _So she had so why was she so…?_

"Are you quite alright, Feli?" He asked and her head snapped up, though he could easily see through her murky amber eyes that, although she had responded rather quickly, her drunken impairment was still evident.

Apparent, it was, as she giggled drunkenly, her face blushing as she waved a hand. "Did you just call me Feli? That's so-o-o cute, Luddy~"

Ludwig blinked, and then shook his head as he sighed. He was going to be late home again. He took a more firm grip on Feliciano's arm as she babbled something about Italian weather and whether or no it affected birds and flying insects.

They were just a few corners to Feliciano's home when the Italian dug her heels into the sidewalk and pointed, "There! Right there, Luddy, someone is staring at me!" Ludwig was to say it might be another sign post like the other forty times when Feliciano had attempted to tell it to stop staring.

Feliciano continued, lunging forward and barely catching her own balance as she tried to glare and point again. "Right there, Luddy, they have white hair and red eyes! I can seem 'em! They're staring at me!"

Ludwig stiffened at the description as he heard a distant, but very distinct snicker, from across the street. He frowned. Why was he here? He would be home; he didn't need someone like his devious brother attempting to watch him. He would cause more harm than good.

Feliciano gasped, "Luddy!" She tugged at the German's sleeve, eyes wide as she babbled fearfully and started to appear like she wanted to cry. "Luddy! Did you see that? They just vanished! Right into thin air!"

Feliciano sniffled and then bent over at the waist to retrieve something from the folds of her dress. Ludwig stared at her confused, as did other people on the street, but she finally came up. Her face slightly red from more blood rushing to her head, eyes bright and her smile beaming and wide, she exclaimed, "I always keep one handy!"

She twirled the small wooden stick with its attached white fabric. Ludwig blinked and then cocked his head, frowning. _What the Hell is this_, he thought and just as he made to reach out and take it, another hand beat him.

Words were never able to make it past his lips as a deep voice said, "What the fuck is this? Y'know, Ludwig, when I said make friends, I actually meant make friends with someone who has an _ounce_ of intelligence in their damn brains."

Feliciano blinked into space, dumbly, as she opened and closed her now-empty hand. Her drunken mind finally processed what had been said about her behind her and she frowned as she started to look at her hand.

Ludwig paled, ice-blue eyes flashing black in the dark as Feliciano stared at her empty hand, questioningly, and then started crying in the middle of the sidewalk. Ludwig frowned and snatched the flag back. "Here, now stop crying, it's better now," he said as he stuck the white flag back in Feliciano's open hands.

Gilbert, Ludwig's older brother, watched carefully at the exchange happening is his presence as Ludwig easily pacified the bawling girl in front of him. He saw all too clearly how the small girl responded to Ludwig's words and how she wiped her eyes and thanked him before singing about ravioli and twirling the flag like it meant something.

He watched, his face darkening in realization, when Ludwig seemed to panic when the girl nearly stepped into incoming traffic. He pulled her back, the strength of his hidden heritage nearly coming through as he saved her from certain death.

He watched as he saw Ludwig berate the girl for acting so carelessly and the girl respond that he was too strict and needed to smile more. That he get wrinkles faster than a dried tomato in the sun if he didn't use his youth to its fullest potential.

He had about to say something about needing to speak his younger brother for a second, when Ludwig raised his head to say a word to his brother to ask on why he was here, on the surface, watching him. But Feliciano surprised all by leaning up on the tips of her toes and smiling, while her face blushed slightly, as she pressed her lips to Ludwig's cheek.

Neither knew that the Feliciano had meant as a friendly gesture from her homeland and both assumed the worst from their upbringing: that Feliciano loved Ludwig.

Both demons stiffened, but it was Gilbert who reacted first. With a growl, and a flash of malice in his red eyes, he made a move to take his brother's shoulder when Feliciano took the Ludwig's hand and tried to pull him across the street, "Come on! The light says we can walk now!"

And just like that, Feliciano unknowingly saved Ludwig from his brother as she tugged him through and past people attempting to get across the street. She was giggling while Ludwig's mind raced. The German looked behind him once, when they had finally gotten across, to see Gilbert's narrowed red eyes and a feral snarl before the other vanished entirely in a flash of dark shadows.

Ludwig's lips pressed into a thin line.

_Damn it all to Hell and back_, he thought as Feliciano tried to decipher in her still-drunken mind how to get home. Ludwig was silent the entire trip and when Feliciano asked him, "H-Hey, Luddy…why are you all the way down there and I'm the all the way up here."

Her face saddened considerably as she began to worry some of the folds of her dress. She looked down at the floor. "You always beat me… up the stairs," she raised her head and Ludwig felt a part of him feel guilty when he say her amber eyes were misty with unshed tears. "When you take me home, you always get up to the top before me."

"I have to go home," Ludwig said simply. My brother is probably worried about me by now_." If not tattling on me about my relationship with you_, he thought darkly. A small thread of guilt went through him as Feliciano looked down again at her feet and kicked an unseen pebble. "I see."

"I will be back," he promised though he had no idea as to _when_ he would be back. Feliciano nodded, as if to reassure herself before she cleared her throat and raised her head as Ludwig turned to leave. "I have a present…for you." She said as a light blush appeared over her face.

Ludwig looked at her and her blush worsened. "It's not much. But that's because I don't have all that much money, what with much of it going towards to my bills and the tickets. But I did get you something." She raised her head, trying to stick out her chin to appear brave.

_Tickets?_ Ludwig thought._ What tickets? Tickets for what?_ But his mind ultimately went back to Feliciano giving him a gift. She said it wasn't much but then again Ludwig had seen some of what the Italian was capable of and "not much" could range from an elaborate dinner, like that one she had prepared of him one time on a visit on a day Feliciano called "Thanksgiving", to that one time when she had given him that little black charm depicting a crescent moon.

Feliciano's face was going redder by the minute as she hurriedly ran to her door and unlocked it, and appeared a moment later. She held out a brightly-wrapped box. Her face was shaming a tomato more by the minute and her words were hurriedly spoken as she said, "I know it's not much and you've probably had better, but like I said, I don't have a lot of money and-and-and I really want you to enjoy he present, though was meant for Christmas but you said your bother is mad and I don't know how long you'll be gone and—"

Ludwig tried to interrupt. "When is Christ-mas?" The name sounded odd, rolling off his tongue and he frowned. It sounded good when Feliciano said it._ Had he said it wrong?_

"Ve? You don't know when Christmas is?" Feliciano asked and Ludwig shook his head as he took the box from the Italian. It was small and fit nicely not his hands. "It's the twenty-fifth of December and the day before is the eve when the city has a parade and food and all that."

Ludwig nodded as he made a mental note to recall himself back to the surface somehow to appear on "Christmas". He turned to Feliciano, "And I bring you a gift as well?"

Feliciano's face grew darker as she tried to put up excuses for him not to. "You don't have to, err, I mean, you can, but I'll still like if you just come, you don't have to bring me anything, but if you want, you can."

"I will, then, I'll give you something." Ludwig said and turned his head to try to open the wrapping as neatly as he could, just in time to miss how Feliciano's fame flamed like a beacon.

The wrapping came off easily with Ludwig's nails, something Feliciano found herself envying even as she felt anticipation brew within her. _Would he like her present?_

Ludwig came to the white box underneath the wrapping and tried to find the seal that kept it closed. He pressed a fold and the box's top flew open and made him jump slightly in surprise. His shoulder moved and Feliciano sidled closer as to avoid a blow and ended up closer to the German.

Ludwig said nothing and so Feliciano didn't move away.

Ludwig's face broke into a small look of surprise as he saw a glint appear on reflected metal. He shifted the flier paper and his face broke into a smile. His hand was slow but eager as he pulled the necklace free, "Feli, its lovely. Thank you." He said and smiled gently at the Italian, "Really, thank you."

Feliciano's words caught in her throat as she saw Ludwig shift the box in his arms as he tried to put the necklace on. Feliciano took one of his hands, "I'll help you."

With shaking fingers, she took the clasp of the black gold chain and attached it to the other end and made sure it was firm and wouldn't slip. Ludwig turned slightly to face her, "Does it look alright?"

Feliciano nodded as the dark eagle splayed as the main attraction and charm contrasted against Ludwig's skin. She smiled, "Better than alright, it's perfect."

Ludwig's smile grew wider and Feliciano found time silently slipping by as the sky grew darker. The night wore on and then Ludwig stiffened as Feliciano saw a flash of white dart almost angrily behind a building. Ludwig turned behind him, frowning.

He turned back to Feliciano, his smile there again but thinner and less happy, as if he had just seen something distasteful behind him when he had looked. "Thank you again, Feliciano, for giving me this."

Feliciano nodded, "Y-yes, err, I mean, you're welcome."

The white flash seemed to dart closer and Ludwig turned to it, frown deepening. "It would seem I have to go home sooner than I had thought." He turned back to Feliciano, "I shall return in time for this Christmas celebration, I promise."

Feliciano smiled even as the flashing angry white streak behind Ludwig seemed to be getting closer and closer. His hands worried the ends of her dress again but other than that, she tried not to show fear within her drunken mind.

The white streak kept getting closer until Ludwig finally left. But Feliciano waited a moment to see if it would come back before she walked back up her stairs. It was just as she was about to close her door to her home that a foot stopped her.

She frowned and started to push back when the door suddenly flew back into the wall with a loud bang! Feliciano stumbled and felon her back, a few feet away, her mind recovering from the shock and sudden blow.

There in her doorway, as she finally opened her eyes and held her head, was the white-haired and red-eyed man from earlier. He was glaring and a dark aura seemed to hand over him as he stood in the doorway, anger highly evident. "Stay the Hell away from my brother, you hure."

Feliciano blinked, not used to the treatment and not understanding the threat or the insult given. "Excuse me?"

Gilbert seethed, even as he struggled against the barrier keeping him out. The schlampe hadn't invited him in! If only she would come a little closer, he thought as his hands curled into fists at his sides. He wouldn't let her get his little brother killed. He knew her face and he knew her name.

Feliciano Vargas, a member of the Vargas family, he had found that in her mail. And she was directly related to the worse of the Vargas, Romano and Romulus Vargas. _She was a damn part of the demon-hunting family! His brother was completely clueless as he was playing right into her fucking trap_, he thought angrily.

He pushed defiantly against the barrier keeping him out, making his ears pop in resistance. But he ignored it as he dug his nails into the doorway as she tried to crawl away and under a table in fear, whimpering.

"Stay away from my little bruder, schlampe." He repeated, growling, "Let me catch you with him again and I," his eyes flashed and she saw it, starting to cry as she tried to hide further under the table. "It won't end well for you, I'll you that. Keep your filthy hands to yourself, I know your type."

He pulled himself angrily form the doorway and scoffed. The girl was crying under the table as he shut the door firmly and walked away. He took the steps with much more speed and force than necessary and few stone blocks cracked slightly at his stomps.

He let out an angry huff of air as he looked back up at the girl's window. He couldn't help but think that there was something off about her. Something she was hiding and something about her that said she might be innocent…

Innocent?

Gilbert scoffed and a moment later, an evil-sounding screech made him look up. Gilbird sat in a tree, its tiny bird-face looking grim. He looked out and he saw what made his accomplice so uneasy. The sun was going to rise in a few hours. He was going to have to return home or risk getting exposure to the sun.

**Which would not end well for him or the guy who had to clean up after him.**

He growled, "Fine then, let's go, she was scared enough for one night." The demonic bird lifted off the rafters of the apartment building and flitted to his shoulder. Gilbert's face was grim as he could almost feel the sun's influence.

He just hoped his brother would see that the girl would be his end. She had bad connections, connections that would love to see the legit prince of Hell dead and done, and leaving Hell in chaos. "I wonder how long you think this will last, bruder," he said as he crossed dimensions in an alley to remain unseen. "I wonder how long _you_ will last when her family finds out you've been coming to her."

He shook his head, "Worse than Romeo and Juliet, I tell ya." It's going to end worse and lot more painful for both sides.

_And worse still, _he thought_, we aren't going to make peace at the end._

**I am soooo sorry this is late. My laptop broke and I had to use my brother's to finish this.**

Yes, I know Feliciano was recognized as a girl in this chapter. That was on purpose. He's seen as a girl, except by those who know the truth: which is very few (Feliciano, himself, Romano and their grandfather)

Ludwig does not know that Feliciano is a boy. This will play a key role later.

Gilbert had a hunch that Feliciano was hiding something but he doesn't know what.

This is still yaoi, damnit.

I'll probably be AWOL or MIA for a while, but have no fears, I shall return!

I _hope_…

;_;

**Please review, favorites are nice but reviews are easier for me to see you guys like this story idea…**

**Read and ****REVIEW****.**


	3. Keeping Quiet

**Hell's Tango**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** AU The young male was often seen in one of the girls' dresses, singing atop a piano. That's how he found him. He was beautiful; pure, ripe for the taking. However, he couldn't bring himself to silence that pretty voice…Demon!GermanyxFlapper!Italy

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

Author Alert: DinosaurAttack, shadowwolf49, Izz'95, WaterVixen

Story alert/ Favorites: ** JKProductions , Scarpaw, Kitk12, shadowwolf49, Izz'95, skyspottedshadow, CyilEib, WaterVixen, Princess-Canada, Whisper10157, akiruisora, xXBlackieChanXx, TheSunsetDragon**

Reviewer(s)!: ** DinosaurAttack, Oighear Croi, AlwaysTomorrow, shadowwolf49, Izz'95, littlewolfwindspeaker, Lady-Pyrien, xXBlackieChanXx **

DinosaurAttack: Yes Gilbert has always been a protective dick. But we love him anyways~ :D (Glad you liked the chapter!)

Oighear Croi: No one can anymore womanly than China! He's just so…! *squeal* I hope Russia didn't hear that, I want to live! O_O"

AlwaysTomorrow: Obsession isn't healthy, my friend. Please consult Russia for treatment advice. :D

shadowwolf49: ^_^ I loved Romeo and Juliet, especially the ending. And so~ my sadistic mind thought to say: "Why not, make a demonic version of it in Hetalia?" And thus, this fic was given even more potential. (P.S: I am not a mind-reader- that is my mother.)

Izz'95: GerIta shipper over here as well, well closet anyways…RussAme will always have my heart. (P.S. English isn't my first language either so as far as I know, your Grammar is fine.)

littlewolfwindspeaker: Short and sweet and to the point! :D I'm glad, hun!

Lady-Pyrien: ^_^ I love surprises in stories~ And the Vargas is mafia and demon hunters~ FTW

WaterVixen: I'm glad, hun.

Princess-Canada: I could've sworn Canada was a guy…meaning he had a d-..err, never mind.

xXBlackieChanXx: I glad I'm the selected author; I'm glad you said "fuck it" and reviewed for. :D ^_^ My story strikes you? *looks uneasy* You won't call authorities on me, will you…? I'll update more regularly if you don't press assault charges, I promise…*sweat drop*

I love the over 10k+ word stories. It gives me a good excuse to procrastinate against one-shots with just (usually pointless) smut. I get more into stories with a higher word count but those few that are short and sweet and just _right_, I make an exception for.

"Hell's Tango" is rather young, but I expect it to get over 10 (maybe 20+?) chapters and near 100k+ words if I keep up the way I'm writing now, with 5k+ words or more every chapter.

I hope I update soon, too, but *shrug* my brain has multiple projects going on. We shall see~ Though, I will take your words into consideration when I am at a computer and going like: "Okay, now what the Hell do I update next?"

**My email committed suicide, guys, gee thankx. XD**

**Recommended Listening: **"Secrets" by Alicia Keys

**.:Chapter Three:.**

_Keeping Quiet _

_**[Gilbert]**_

He sat in the music room of the castle and held his head in his hands. His little brother was across from him, playing a violin as if he had just been found out with a human a few weeks prior. That he hadn't been asked if he was doing it again and honestly answered yes.

"Mein Gott," Gilbert groaned as he shook his head. He hid his face in his folded arms, trying to think of a way to downplay the situation in his mind. If he could convince himself, he might be able to convince other it wasn't that bad as well. He just might be able to keep Ludwig alive and still under the crown.

**He might be able to for should he fail…**

"God, damn it," he swore as he ran his hands through his hair. This was Ludwig, he thought as turned on the piano seat to watch as said blonde demon played a soft melody on his violin. Ludwig is the good one, he thought, why is he doing this? Does he want attention? Is that it?

"This can't go on," he said as he shook his head. "It just can't go on." It's too dangerous, he thought, he is going to get himself killed.

The older demon sighed softly but then eyed the white piano keys at his fingertips_. Just this once_, he thought_, I'll keep this to myself. I'll watch them both so they can't do anything to get themselves exposed quicker but the moment things get dangerous, I go in and pull Ludwig out before he can get hurt._

He nodded to himself as he placed his fingers over the white musical blocks_. I'll do that,_ he decided, _this plan seems sturdy._ As he was nodding to himself, he began to play. The notes were soft at first, with a darker undertone but soon the mood picked up to match Ludwig's playing nearly note for note.

Just as the melody was ending, their butler and longtime nanny, Roderich, came in with new sheet music under his arm. He was smiling. "Well done, boys, I'm impressed."

Ludwig smiled thinly, his ice-blue eyes seeming to take apart Roderich's words and see if he was being honest or not. "Why, thank you, Roderich."

"Gilbert, are you feeling well?" Gilbert's head slowly turned from the piano keys to Roderich's suddenly concerned face. "You have been looking different from your usual boisterous and obnoxious self." Gilbert thought he had heard a jab but he shrugged it off.

"Ja," he said slowly, "I was just thinking over something." Roderich faked horror, "Oh dear Gott, please tell it has nothing to do with anything according to that word you found on the surface." The old demon-butler paused, and put a finger to his lip in thought. "I can't believe I just forgot what the word was. Either I must be old or you haven't said it much lately."

"I haven't said it much, lately," Gilbert explained and this time, even Ludwig's head spun to face Gilbert surprised. Gilbert raised a brow, his red eyes showing his unease at being stared at. He didn't like the sudden attention just because he hadn't said a certain word. _Was it really that big of a deal?_

"Brother…" Ludwig began as he put aside his violin to stand and begin to walk over to the piano. "Are you sure you are feeling well? You can choose to stay home for tonight's meeting if you need time alone to think." Gilbert saw Ludwig manage a small smile. "It's alright; I should be able to handle it."

Gilbert's expression didn't change. "Nein, its fine. I'm fine. I am still going to the meeting. It should not be a problem," he said, almost tightly. He saw Ludwig stare at him for a long time. Roderich remained in the background, as he often did when the demonic brothers looked at odds with each other.

"Alright then," Ludwig said slowly, "If you say you are feeling well enough to attend, I expect only your best tonight when the representatives arrive. No foolish business."

Gilbert didn't laugh. "I have no plans on acting out. Vati is supposed to be at the meeting, isn't he?" Ludwig's eyes narrowed. Gilbert saw him tense in the slightest way. It was the crinkle at the ends of his eyes.

Ludwig would not be able to sneak off to the surface if their father attended because that would mean that their father was trying to spend time with them for an undetermined amount of time. Sneaking off would inspire suspicion in the court. Ludwig would have to save face to keep his father from snooping around in their personal lives.

That also meant that Gilbert would have to act like he was happy while his father was around to prevent him from seeing him trying to think up a way to cover for Ludwig's absences while he was with that human he had found on the surface.

_You're stuck here with me_, Gilbert thought as his eyes went back down to the piano keys. You can't leave without drawing attention to yourself. The albino demon was about to say something aloud when suddenly something came to him. "Roderich…"

Said demon-butler answered immediately, straightening the cuff links of the pristine white shirt he wore. He frowned as he saw no smirk on Gilbert's face, only a face of deep thought and pressing matters on his mind. "Yes, Gilbert? Is something the matter?"

Gilbert chose his words carefully. "As of yet, no harm has been done. Yet," he annunciated tightly, barely biting back a growl. He looked down at his hands. His mind finished his words. But harm will come. It would come and will come down hard to the one it believes is responsible.

Gilbert sighed, getting aggravated as every possible way he turned the situation in his mind ended the same way. He kept seeing the same thing. Flames, and lots of them, everywhere his eye looked, flames and then in the distance: the sound of soft words, the words of two people willing to die for the other.

It made his stomach hurt.

Gilbert sighed again and then he felt Roderich's hand over his forehead. He raised a brow as he looked up to see violet eyes fully displaying their concern as ice-blue ones showed both a mixture of fear and concern, and pity and concern.

Gilbert rose slowly, gently pushing away Roderich's hand. "I am going to lie down for a bit." He said, and he waited for Roderich to nod in understanding and Ludwig to take a step back. It was a demonic sing of understanding among siblings if one said he was to do something that the other nod or step back.

Ludwig waited a moment and then, just as gilbert was about to repeat himself, nodded and went back to his violin. Ludwig sat down on the window seat, and looked out the window as an excuse not to see the other.

Gilbert inwardly sighed. He would have to do something soon. If not for Ludwig's benefit, then this own. The thinking of a way to cover for Ludwig was making him act different. Roderich was probably suspicious for his lack of saying "awesome". Which was really out of character for him, him not saying it at all, when it was he usually said it about twice or three times in one sentence.

"I need to come up with something," he said to himself as he walked through the halls.  
"And soon, if I don't save him, he'll end up getting himself killed."

The arches of red against the golden wallpaper and the dark flooring showed his royal family's colors. He paused in his thinking when he came upon the family painting. It was his father standing beside Roderich who was holding him and Ludwig when they were babies.

His father's face even seemed cold painted in oil. He didn't even smile. His father wore the traditional clothes of the time period. It was an outfit of various greens and his traditional armor and boots. He still had the braid done inside of hair and put off to the side. He still wore his cape.

Gilbert looked down at his painted father with almost disdain. Gilbert was born from one of his father's mistresses. He technically wasn't royal blood, but it was upon his birth that his father lied of how he was conceived to the people in order for Gilbert to remain with him and not with his mother.

To be honest with himself, even after all of these years, Gilbert didn't even know his mother. He had only been told by Roderich when he was a few centuries younger why his mother was never around. Roderich had told him the honest truth, because it was in his belief to never lie.

However, Ludwig's mother was royalty. But she died during her second pregnancy with his third brother. The poor child had drained her and she didn't survive.

Ludwig took after his father, in appearance and somewhat in manner, Roderich had told him. And while Gilbert only showed his father's attributes when he was serious about something or thinking, Gilbert looked like his mother and had her brash personality.

Gilbert ignored his father's image in the picture, deciding he had better things to do than find new reasons to question his father's logic in how he acquired children, and moved his attention to Roderich holding two small blonde babies.

Gilbert smiled as he saw the smiling Roderich. Gilbert, in the painting, was no older than a few centuries, maybe four, and he was standing at Roderich's leg and holding one of his hands. The young boy's red eyes were bright but serious-looking despite the savage-looking grin he wore.

Young Gilbert wore a black military outfit. The outfit showed the gold lines along the creases, the badges over the right side of his chest, the white gloves, and sturdy-looking boots. His white shirt was shown in the top few buttons and he even had a black tie done perfectly.

His usual hairstyle was smoothed in a kind of gel but it went forwards to create a bang over his eyes, something Gilbert was sure he had done rather than the hairdresser, and gave young Gilbert a way to show off some of his own personality.

Gilbert smiled at his younger self_. I was cute as a little kid_, he thought as looked at Roderich holding Ludwig. Roderich wore something simple, never one for elaborate photos. The brown-haired demon stood straight, his favorite purple overcoat thrown on with his usual white ruffle peeking over and out of the gap between the neck of his coat and his collar. His dark pants looked pressed and his boots fancier than Gilbert and his father's military-like ones.

_Look at baby West,_ Gilbert thought as he saw his younger brother. _Before he got the stick stuck up his ass and got it in his mind to act older than he really is._

Indeed, Ludwig as a baby was cute, if nothing else, but still nothing much to really look at. He was adorable, yes, but he was still young and without a way to take care of himself.

The small child seemed to look at you with big, curious blue eyes staring back at you and his usual pale skin showing some hints of blushing. He was sort-of smiling, in a baby way, under his pacifier and he held Roderich's shoulder in a seemingly tight grip, typical of a baby.

His outfit was probably chosen by Roderich as it was simple but still formal and elaborate. His dark vest was pressed, his red bow was tied correctly and precisely to align with the golden button and his white undershirt was tucked into his dark shorts. His little feet were placed in black boots like Roderich's.

"Aw, West was cute as a baby," Gilbert commented aloud.

"Indeed," a voice said and Gilbert straightened and turned to see Roderich smiling fondly before said demon-butler pointed to Gilbert. "You were cute too, Gilbert, especially when you made a fuss over your hair." His violet eyes warmed in memory as Gilbert saw him face the portrait of the royal family entirely.

"You adamantly refused to let anyone, but me, touch your hair or pick out your clothes." Roderich chuckled as he turned to Gilbert. He was smirking. "It was dreadfully annoying when I was called by near a dozen maids that kept saying you were intending to stay in the tub until I could wash you, myself."

Gilbert laughed, "Oh, I remember that! You came in, this one time, and I said 'Rodi! The maids are perverts! They wanna see my peewee!'" Roderich's smile was thin as he recalled that memory well. Gilbert kept laughing, "And the look on all of your faces was fucking priceless!"

Gilbert tried to display the maid's horror and then Roderich's embarrassment as he put his hands to his face in an effort to hide his shame. He laughed again, "You told me, when you got to the table, that you were going to drown me in the tub the next time I had you called down from across the castle to give me a bath."

"I still proudly stand my earlier statement," Roderich said tightly. "Call me like that again, like all of those times when you were a child, at near dawn and I will drown you in the damn tub. That was not funny. The maids always came to scared for their dear lives, and I kept thinking something was actually wrong with you."

Gilbert chuckled, "It was still funny to see you come in your night-clothes and running in like there was some kind of emergency while I threw soap bars at every maid who tried to scrub my back." Red eyes lit up. "Remember puberty?"

"Oh dear Gott, no!" Roderich wailed, "Never again! You were absolutely intolerable!"

Gilbert snickered, "I put an aphrodisiac in your tea. That was funny. It was probably one of my best pranks on you." Roderich glared at him, "No, your so-called '_prank_' was not funny. My wife, Elisabeth gave me a frying pan to the face the next morning after she found out she was carrying my children once again." He narrowed his eyes, "You little trick gave me twins, Gilbert, twins!"

"You're welcome," Gilbert said, as he folded his hands behind his back. "I'm glad I improved your sex life and made your marriage much more enjoyable with the addition of two new demons." He smiled innocently and Roderich groaned, "I miss when you were just a baby and kept calling me 'mama Rodi'."

"I remember those days, even if they are small," Gilbert said as he recalled one time he had said it and his father had all but snapped his neck to stare at him. He giggled as he remembered Roderich's hurried and stammered explanation, his red face as little-Gilbert played with his hair curl. "Dad's face that one time was hilarious!"

Roderich raised a brow but smiled, in amusement, in memory though his face showed some signs of past embarrassment. "I remember. It took me near ten minutes to prove to your father I had romantic interest in him and that was simply a pet name you had given me."

The demon-butler shivered. "I didn't like the way he looked at me afterwards, as if he still thought I had any interest, of that kind, for him."

"Do you now? Do you wanna shag my vati's bones?" Gilbert crossed his arms behind his head and then jutted his hips outwards, making lewd sounds before Roderich slapped him across the back of his head, loudly, his face red in embarrassment.

I r-raised you better th-than to talk like that!" Roderich said, and then huffed as he pretended to straighten his clothing to calm himself down. Gilbert rubbed the sore spot on the back of his head. Roderich could hit when he wanted to. "Well, do ya?"

"Absolutely not, I am happily married!" Roderich cried, indignantly. Gilbert raised a brow, smirking. "So, your point? Lots of people shag others in their so-called happy marriages." He grinned, "Ms. Elisabeth is great and all, but I'm sure you wanna taste of something on the wild side."

Roderich flexed his hand, as he looked ready to take off his glove. "Do you need another back-hand, Gilbert?"

"No, sir," Gilbert said, his face losing some color. When Roderich took off the glove, you were going to get hit and hit hard enough to think the hardwood floor was plush carpet in comparison. You did not want that aimed at you. "I'll be good."

Roderich smiled, "See that you do." Gilbert grinned sheepishly, and was about to turn away and continue down the hallway to his room, when Roderich spoke again. "Are you going to keep quiet from me too…?"

Gilbert froze, mid-step, and turned to see Roderich. The demon-butler's violet eyes were dark with sadness and downcast. His face was long and near grim as he fiddled with the fluffy cufflink of his cream-colored blouse.

He was about to straighten his black vest when Gilbert came back to put a hand over his. "Don't," he said, he sighed. "Just stop, Roderich." He paused for a minute and then gave a small smile to the man who had all but raised him as his own son. "You are _really_ good at making others feel guilty."

Roderich cocked his head slightly. "I am afraid; I do not know what you are speaking of. I have done nothing." Those violet eyes rose up, "However, I have done nothing for either you or your brother for you to not trust me." He clasped his hands in front of him. "What is upsetting you boys?"

Gilbert tried to turn away, "Nothing, Rodi, I swear, it's just—"

"Lie."

Gilbert's breath seized, sometimes he really hated how well Roderich knew the both of them. It made getting things past him hard as Hell. "Wh-what," Gilbert cleared his throat. He did not need to make himself look any more suspicious than he already was. "I mean, what are you talking about, Roderich? Why would I lie to you? I—"

"There you go, again," Roderich said, patiently, frowning. His eyes grew even sadder. "You are lying to me. I can tell. You never call me Rodi when you turn away unless you are lying." Roderich sighed. "Your brother is the same way. He refuses to meet my eyes when he uses the pet name when he is lying to me."

Gilbert wanted to bash his head into the wall. _Damn him_, he thought, _damn him and his paternal instincts. He knows me better than my own vati._

"What is bothering you boys?" Roderich asked, walking closer to Gilbert. "Let me help," he continued, as he put a hand on Gilbert's shoulder. "Please, Gil, I want to help but if neither of you tell me anything, I can't do anything and won't know what to assist you on."

Gilbert didn't move farther away. Instead, he huffed, knowing he was caught in a lie and had little choice or way to escape. He leaned against the wall, choosing a space between paintings to lie between before Roderich snapped at him that he was destroying family portraits again.

Gilbert looked down at the floor, for a long minute. Then he sighed as he knocked his head, gently, into the wall. "Roderich," he began, "You are very persistent."

"My wife says as well," Roderich said, smirking a little. Then his face turned back serious. "Now tell me what is bothering you or you shall be sent to your without dessert." Gilbert inwardly paled, as he rubbed the back of his fangs with his tongue.

It was a never tick, he got from Roderich while he was younger and he had stuck with it. Careful of the tips, he tried to figure a way to word the situation without sending Roderich into near-shock or calling him a liar.

"It's…about Ludwig," he started. That seemed to be a good place to start, right?

Roderich nodded, "I figured as much. He refuses to say anything. That was my first clue. Now," he said, "tell me the rest. I want to help." Gilbert rubbed a fang a bit harshly and nearly winced as his tongue came close to the tip. Luckily, he caught himself and then said slowly, "I…I don't know if—"

"Gilbert," Roderich said. His voice was soft, as if he was speaking to a child. He sighed, and then did something he hadn't done in a long time. Shocking Gilbert a bit, Roderich eased Gilbert's head into the hollow space at his neck, wrapped his long arms around the demonic prince he had helped raise into a young man, and rubbed small circles into his arms with one hand while petting his hair down with another.

"You can tell me, child," he said, softly when Gilbert didn't immediately pull away. "I have raised you for near two thousand years. If you can't trust me now, then you really are without anyone you can trust."

Gilbert breathed deep through his nose, inhaling what he knew was the characteristic scent of Roderich: aged paper and spices, night air and the scent of wild roses. Everything that could not be described yet had a specific smell or feel or sight or touch.

Gilbert trusted Roderich, and it was because of this that he replied, "You are going to be majorly pissed when I tell ya…" His demon-butler chuckled, the deep vibration going through Gilbert's skin from their close contact.

Gilbert's eyes were slipping but he wasn't tired. It was just the feeling of safety and tender care that he knew Roderich held, had always held, it always seemed to be there just when he needed it and when he thought he didn't. He didn't know what he would do without the finicky, perfectionist male.

"I have pushed to the point of frustration, when you say certain things," Roderich clarified, petting the other's hair. "But never angry," he said, "I could never be angry at either at you." He turned the young male in his arms to look him in the eyes. "I might be disappointed, I might be puzzled, I might even dare say humiliated and downright exasperated when either of you try to steer from the path I try to set for you."

Gilbert was silent and Roderich continued, a smile was starting to form on the elder's face. "But then my feelings change when I see what you both can do. Especially you, Gilbert, when everyone thought you were hopeless and nothing but a military asset or just a nuisance, I said nothing because they wouldn't understand you like I would."

Gilbert thought the other looked about to cry as he said, "I have raised you from diapers, I taught you to walk and speak, and I made sure you knew what fork was for which type of food, I got you out of the habit of running off to my rooms when you heard thunder as a toddler."

"I was the one who let you ride your first horse. I was the one who picked you up off your feet and cleaned your scratches when you fell off. I was the one you wanted to hold your hand afterwards," he said, as he took one of Gilbert's hands to look at the old scar there from that incident.

"Before the horse had the chance to take off again without you seated properly. My hand was the one you let go when you finally mastered the most-wildest horse. I let you name it to your own wishing, your black stallion: Nightshade." He chuckled, ignoring the tear that had fallen from his face to lie on Gilbert's white head. The young demon was speechless.

"I helped you enter the military training, when everyone thought and said you would drop out for being a pampered prince." Roderich said, "I helped you study for your finals, helped you maintain your rides with Nightshade." He smiled, another tear falling.

"I was the one, who stood all by myself," he said, "when you made it across the whole military course more than half an hour before everyone else, the boys who everyone had their bets on because they weren't like you, had even made it past the first obstacle. I was the only who had believed in you from the start," Gilbert had to bite back his tongue. He was not going to cry, damn it.

Roderich continued, knowing fully well that he was getting through to Gilbert by making him recall Roderich's acts of trustworthiness. "And I was the one who cheered for you, with your little brother at my hip. When everyone was staring as you were awarded the gold medal, I was the one who came down to congratulate."

Gilbert was about to cry. Roderich was going to make him cry with every one of those memories. He was all but proving that he was trustworthy and that whether he failed or succeeded in anything, Roderich would be the one he would go to tell him about it, regardless. Roderich had always been there.

Roderich was softly swaying, even as he continued, "If you think you and your brother are going to get past me with this, after all these years of being a family, and then you are both sadly mistaken." Gilbert sniffed, okay; it was one tear, alright. Roderich had gotten one tear at him, after all.

"You get off on trying to make me cry, don't you?" Gilbert said, and then he coughed to clear his throat. He sounded as if he had been crying. Roderich chuckled, wiping away tears of his own. "I try my best to get past the cocky bad-boy exterior you put on for everyone else."

Gilbert scoffed, "I am _not_ cocky."

Roderich smirked as he turned Gilbert around in his arms so the young demon could see him. "I apologize." His smile was sarcastic, "I meant _arrogant_."

Gilbert wasn't laughing at the joke despite how much Roderich seemed to be getting out of it, "Not funny, you prude."

Then Roderich suddenly stiffened, as his head turned slowly, violet eyes hardening, as his grin became wide and savage. Gilbert realized too late, he had said the wrong word. "What did you just call me, Gilbert Anton Beilschmidt?"

Gilbert laughed nervously, holding his hand sup in surrender as he petted Roderich's hands as said demon's eyes' previous violet color darkened to near dark purple. "N-Nothing, Rodi, I was just saying we should go and eat some of those awesome tarts, you're so good at it, in the kitchen."

Roderich was not swayed, "No dessert, Gilbert."

Damn, he thought, as he said, "Y-yes sir…"

Roderich straightened his clothing, and then softened his glare on the young male. No dessert seemed like a fair punishment for that horrible name. "And you are still telling me what was bothering you boys, after dinner, no exceptions."

Gilbert groaned and Roderich looked back. Gilbert straightened, saluted the demon-butler. "Sir, yes sir!" Gilbert said, and stood at attention until Roderich saluted him back, smiling. "Dinner will be in precisely an hour. The meeting will begin exactly an hour afterwards."

Roderich's eyes narrowed. "Have your speech together and record good notes. Your father will be present and will return back to the manor with the both of you."

Gilbert grumbled, "Why do you always say it like that? As if you know I'll say something wrong around the guy?"

Roderich answered simply, "Because you always do."

Gilbert blinked, and then frowned as he walked off in the direction of his room. "Shut up, Rodi. You and West are plotting against me. I just know it." He heard Roderich's laughter fade as the butler made for the kitchen to begin preparing dinner.

Gilbert waited a bit and then ran, as fast and quietly as his past military training would allow him, back to the music room. He saw Ludwig still there, looking over a sheet of song and trying to decipher it. Gilbert came in, and locked the door. He wanted no interruptions.

"Brother," Ludwig said, frowning as he heard the lock click. He put the sheet music aside. "What is going on? What are you doing?" Gilbert walked to his brother, face grim. Ludwig's frown deepened, "Am I to believe you are not feeling better? I told you, you can stay home for the meet—"

"Shut up, Ludwig." Gilbert growled, and then he took a seat at his piano. He held up his head with one fist and drummed his fingers across the piano's smooth surface. "We need to talk."

"No," Ludwig said, trying to avoid the conversation altogether, as politely as possible. "We do not. There is nothing to talk about."

"There's your little human, what's-her-name?" Gilbert faked a moment of thought as he saw Ludwig stiffen and his grip on the violin become tighter. "Feliciano, was it?"

"You can't have her," snarled Ludwig and Gilbert scoffed, his face twisting to show disgust. "I don't want that hure. She's spawn of the Vargas family in Italy, Ludwig." Said demon said nothing, his face avoiding the other's eyes.

Gilbert's red eyes narrowed. So he knew all along, he thought darkly. He knew about her last name and her family. "It's not safe, Ludwig."

"She's-Feliciano's not like them, bruder," Ludwig said as he fussed over a stack of sheet music. "I asked her and she said she left Italy for a better life in America." Gilbert narrowed his eyes. Ludwig clarified, "I didn't ask her directly if she had a hand in their actions, Gilbert, give me some credit here. I'm not that foolish."

"Still foolish enough to fall for a Vargas, I see."

Both boys stiffened and then paled as they saw Roderich in the doorway, his face closed off and looking very disappointed.

"I—" Ludwig began but Gilbert cut him off, "How the fuck did you open the door? I locked it!"

Roderich's violet eyes narrowed further, "I saw that but this is the music room. I have the key, plus I know how to pick a lock, thanks to my years with you, Gilbert. Now hush."

Gilbert's mouth became a thin line as he scowled. Damn it, he thought, he just wanted a private talk with Ludwig before they both had to face Roderich. Said demon-butler walked inside the room, shut the door quietly behind him and then pulled up a chair to sit. "Who wants to talk, first?" he asked, and when no one said anything, he added, "Either one of you says something or I'll involve your father."

Both boys stiffened as Roderich continued, his voice grave. "Acting alongside a Vargas, whether they are friendly or not, Ludwig, is an act of treason and can be punishable by decapitation." Violet eyes found red ones, and he said, "Hiding someone who is acting with a Vargas, or covering their actions, is near just as high treason. You would be lucky to get off with life in solitary confinement."

All were quiet and then Ludwig spoke up, his voice gruff with fear, "Y-you won't really tell on me, will you, Roderich?"

Roderich was silent for a minute as he thought. "No," he said finally, sighing. "I'm sorry for threatening to tell your father. I won't tell on either of you. However," he looked at Ludwig. "This is still serious."

His face went into disbelief as he ran his hands through his hair. "What were you thinking? How in the red mooned Heavens did you find a Vargas, anyway? They've been under the demonic radar for centuries!"

"I met her at this human entertainment club. She was singing—"

"He," Roderich corrected, with a gesture of a finger. "Go on."

"Excuse me?" Both princes gaped at Roderich.

The demon-butler raised his head and then looked at both blonde princes in disbelief. "Did neither of you ever pay attention to history? When has one ever heard of a born-female Vargas? The Vargas-hunters have always been male; they marry women and then have more sons. They haven't had a daughter in thousands of years."

Gilbert blinked but it was Ludwig who had the greater reaction. His entire face was slowly growing red, ice-blue eyes wide and contrasting greatly against the red color. "E-excuse m-me?"

Roderich blinked, frowning, confused. "Um, am I missing anything?"

"Dear Gott," Gilbert said, and then he began to snicker as Ludwig tried to hide his face in his hands. The younger prince's ears were so red that his face must have been the color of a beet, he was so embarrassed.

Gilbert was outright laughing now. He was laughing even as he fell off the piano seat, holding his seats as Ludwig muttered multiple things to himself in an attempt to deny the fact that Feliciano was male. _Actually male, like him,_ he thought, _like Gilbert, like Roderich, a young man._

"Oh mein _Gott_," he whimpered, as he raised his head and looked at Roderich in disbelief. The butler blinked at the much color and began to wonder if he should have kept that piece of history to himself_. If it would have saved Ludwig his dignity_, he thought. "I was kissed by a man?"

Gilbert sputtered and laughed even harder on the floor as Roderich's face darkened. Ludwig stood to repeatedly bump his head against the wall. "Dumkoff, dumkoff, dumkoff," he repeated with each hit until Roderich hurriedly stood. The chair barely held itself from falling as Roderich put his hands on Ludwig's forehead in an attempt to stop the young prince from injuring himself further.

Throwing a book off a random shelf at Gilbert to hush him, Roderich turned to Ludwig who was staring into a mirror on the wall. Gilbert yelped as the book made harsh contact and Roderich began, "N-now, Ludwig…um, I am sure you are in a state of shock, right now. But—"

"I was kissed by a man," Ludwig repeated in disbelief. "_I _kissed a _man_."

"Yes, now," Roderich acknowledged as he took the blonde's face in his hands to make him face him and not the mirror. Ludwig kept right on with his denial, as he laughed weakly, "I thought he was a _girl_! He was wearing a dress, the make-up and all of it! I really believed that _he_ was a _she_! I—"

"Ludwig Jermaine Beilschmidt," Roderich snapped, getting desperate, "Shut the Hell up with your denial and listen to me, damn it!"

The room went silent and then Gilbert said, "Well damn, Rodi. Never knew you had it in you…"

Roderich huffed, "Um, thank you, Gilbert." He turned back to Ludwig, who was looking down on him like a fearful child. "Ludwig, listen to me, answer me with a yes or no, alright?" Ludwig nodded slowly in time with his words, "Do you care for this human, Vargas or no Vargas?"

"Ja…" Ludwig answered. Roderich licked his lip as he thought of a way to ask the next question. "If his family found out about your presence, you would stay, wouldn't you?"

"Ja…" Ludwig said, "I would defend myself…and Feli…" Roderich suddenly wanted to bash his own head into the wall. Gilbert tookt he words out of his mouth, the words he could not say.

"He is so shit out of luck," Gilbert said. "We might as well Turn Felicinao now and save ourselves the trouble."

Roderich sighed, "We can't. We would need your father's approval and I just know as soon as he sees the last name, he shall try to kill this Feliciano right on the spot, Ludwig or not." He rubbed circles into his forehead. "That's just the way he is."

Roderich frowned as he saw Ludwig holding something. "What are you holindg? What is in your hand?" He asked and he reached for Ludwig's hands at his throat. The blonde's ice-blue eyes flashed black but nonetheless, he reluctantly opened his grip to show Roderich the silver-black cross at his neck.

Roderich blinked and then he said, "Gilbert, you were right." Gilbert blinked in shock and Ludwig frowned in confusion. But then Roderich clarified as he turned to bash his head into a bookshelf. "We are so shit out of luck. Ludwig was given the precise symbol of the Vargas."

"Damn, West," Gilbert breathed as he thought he saw the demon-butler grow several grey hairs. Ludwig looked ready to whimper and go back into his previous denial again. "You really fell for some guy."

"Shut up, Gilbert."

**This ended on a lighter note. :D**

**Finally…**

We now see some tension and conflict.

We now have some foreshadowing.

If you paid attention, you would have caught the hint of a later major event,

Ludwig now knows Feliciano's true gender.

**This should be awkward the next visit, ja?**

Anyone kind of feeling antsy about Germania?

(I couldn't give Gilbert and Ludwig a better-fitting father.

:/ That guy just works for this fict.

I have returned from AWOL/MIA. Sorry, I hope I wasn't gone too long. My mom's family was visiting us and we kind of got carried away since me and my brother finished school for the summer.

My dogs are so fat since the BBQ…XD

:3

**Please review, reviews get homemade pasta made by Feliciano in a flapper dress.**

**(Don't tell Ludwig, he won't share! :x)**

**Read and ****REVIEW****.**

**EDIT:** A vivid thank you to JKProductions for pointing out my spelling mistake! Thank you, hun! :D Would you like to be my future beta? And I like your name, Jade is my favorite gemstone.


	4. Taking Action

**Hell's Tango**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** AU The young male was often seen in one of the girls' dresses, singing atop a piano. That's how he found him. He was beautiful; pure, ripe for the taking. However, he couldn't bring himself to silence that pretty voice…Demon!GermanyxFlapper!Italy

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

Author Alert: crazy YinYang writer7, TangoMangos

Story alert/ Favorites: **KneedableEraser, Lady-Pyrien, ashley12chan, Mei15, Tricette, JinxH, Kate Arduenna, Kyara313, crazy YinYang writer7, silver Alida, HetaliaHeart, Muchacha, MaliceArchangela, telemarker, Japanese Sinister, Silverdove91**

Reviewer(s)!: **JKProductions, Yes, Oighear Croi, AlwaysTomorrow(2), Lady-Pyrien, littlewolfwindspeaker, ashley12chan, HetaliaHeart, Japanese Sinister, otaco **

JKProductions: Thank you for correcting me! (English is sooo difficult, sometimes.) Thanks again, and may I call you Jade? :)

Yes: Aww~ *laughing nervously* I'll continue this fiction if it would make you that happy~ Just stay on your side of the bed, hun and make sure the children do their homework and all of their chores.

Oighear Croi: Yes, I tried to choose an embarrassing way for him to find out versus sleeping with later on Feliciano and finding out that way…that would have been BAD. (And Gilbert said he is willing to add you to his Prussian-Awesome family! Bring German-brand beer.)

AlwaysTomorrow: I lost it writing that part. Gilbert had me giggling while I was typing. My dog thought I was crazy-err, crazier. (P.S. Russia just said to use light doses of Hetalia-brand crack each and every day to retain your sanity. Please follow the directions on your yaoi according to the label.)

AlwaysTomorrow (2): I love my M-rated stories! As perverted as that sounds, wow, Germans really are perverts…Hetalia was right….XD

Lady-Pyrien: Mein Gott, it was funny, wasn't it? I wanted to add a little humor to it. Can't be all angst and tears and forbidden love! We must have laughs between sobs! Otherwise, before this fict is even finished, some of us will be flat-out bawling at the computer screen. I don't want that…yet. *Russian smile*

littlewolfwindspeaker: You and the rest of my readers, hun. Germania isn't exactly the guy who looks like you can just bring sensitive stuff up like that. Yeah, sure, "Hey, pops! I'm in love with the child of your worst enemy! Did I mention it was a guy and that I'm in love with him?"

Yeah, sure, sure. Say that- and **GET FUCKING SHOT.**

ashley12chan: *hands you hot plate of pasta* Here, you go~ (Roderich as a demon-butler - Claude Faustus from Kuroshitsuji?) You watch Black Butler too? Where have you been, my uber-awesome new friend!) Update shall be as swift as I can make it. 5k+ chapters are hard…

crazy YinYang writer7: You have an epic username, my friend. Well done. *claps*

HetaliaHeart: Humor is good to brighten dark corners. There are going to be a lot of dark corners in this story…

Japanese Sinister: If you're a softie, you will not make it through this fict nor Beneath the Surface without crying. At least, twice, for Beneath the Surface. This story-pfft- I'm getting my angst on! XP You will cry. And I wish I had a picture to give you and I tried looking that up…but my searches came up dry. Pooh.

otaco: I don't know if it was a rumor, but some accounts have been deleted and some stories as well.

**My email is pressing charges, guys, gee thanks! XD**

**Recommended Listening: **"Fighters" by Lupe Fiasco

**.:Chapter Four:.**

_Taking Action_

_**[Romano]**_

**To: Romano Vargas**

**1217 Sweet-Leaf Road**

**Rome, Italy.**

**From: Feliciano Vargas**

**2346 All Saints Pass way**

**New York, New York**

**December 20****th****, 19XX**

**Dear Fratello,**

**Ciao!**

**It's been a while since I lost wrote to you guys, ve~ I would guess about a few weeks, maybe a month—was it a month, fratello? Or was it two, (maybe three?)**

"It's been about three and two quarters of a month, idiota," Romano snarled as he tried not to ruin his morning with his brother's incompetence to remember time. "It's December, you last wrote in late October."

He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, thinking happy thoughts of tomatoes and sun naps. "Sometimes I wonder how that boy survives in the States when he can't even remember his dates."

His grandfather, Romulus walked into the room. The old man was smiling, humming a tune, as he asked, "A letter from Feli?"

Romano nodded, as he continued, "Give me a minute and I'll let you read it next."

**But the truth is: I've been out. With this really nice guy-Ludwig, though he lets me call him Luddy". Isn't it cute? Ve, I came up with it all by myself!**

"Good for you, moron," Romano muttered. He continued reading down the letter. Then, he paused, and said aloud, "Wait…isn't Ludwig a German name or something?" His hands clenched on the letter, as ire built in him. _He hated Germans…_

_Ludwig is a dead man, _he thought as he read on.

**Fratello, he's really nice! He helps me cross the street and he even taught me how to tie my own boots! (I think said that in one of my last letters. Ah well~)**

"Yeah, you did, kind of repetitive about this bastard, aren't you, Feliciano?" Romano said to himself. Romulus giggled at his son's mutters. He had always found it endearing to see Romano always have something to say to anything and everything that his younger twin brother said.

He smiled, knowing the older twin only did it as his only realized way of showing affection. He cared for his brother. He just did it in his own way.

**We ate at this nice diner and when I found out I was a couple of dollars short of the bill, only a little bit, fratello, he paid for it! The whole thing, Romano, and he left both of the waiter and the waitress (who had tried to flirt with him) this TWENTY dollar tip! I was speechless~**

Twenty dollars was a bit of a small fortune for a tip. Add on, it was only a small and low-class diner, at that, and Romano found himself hating the German Ludwig even more. He has more money than me, he thought, angrily. He stacked another reason against Ludwig. _Yet another reason to hate him_, Romano thought.

It had been up until the last sentence; Romano had only been slightly suspicious of the man Feliciano was steadily describing. His eyebrow twitched and his mouth quirking at the corners. "T-twenty dollar tip, each..?" he gaped aloud. Romulus choked on his morning wine.

"Are you serious?" Romulus asked, as shocked as Romano was. "Let me see that!" Romano pointed to Feliciano's words on the paper and Romulus's amber eyes widened. "Well then, Feli has got himself a rich man~"

Romano's palm met his forehead. "You damn moron! He's probably being used as a whore for a sugar daddy or something!" Romulus giggled, "Jealous?"

Romano growled and snatched a nearby rolled newspaper to throw at his grandfather. "I am not jealous of Feliciano!" He huffed, "I have tomatoes." He grinned, feeling triumphant.

Romulus smiled. "He can just have his sugar daddy buy him all the tomatoes he wants along with a tomato acre plot to go with it~" Romano's triumph fell. _Of course, he could…_

He stacked another reason in his mind to hate Ludwig. _Damn that German bastard to Hell_, he thought as he read the letter again.

He took notice that of the little side drawings. Mostly pasta noodles, or little Feliciano's eating pasta, then a random drawing of a cat, and what caught Romano's eyes was the small drawing a another face at the bottom. It was a rough sketch, he noticed, and had no body and barely went over the shoulders. The picture depicted a male with licked back hair, lidded eyes full of half-hidden joy, and a thin smile.

Romano eyed it for a few moments, thinking, _Could this be Ludwig?_ He stored that information for later. He would write back Feliciano and ask him about the drawing. He didn't want to cut it out so he hoped he could word it enough to the point where even his empty-headed brother could figure out what he was talking about.

**I asked him what he does for a living, and he said it involves politics. (What does that mean, fratello? 'Involves politics'?) Anyways, we usually meet a night after I get off work. I guess he works late, too? (Coincidence? Or maybe great minds work alike and all that~)**

"The saying goes great minds think alike," Romano corrected aloud. "Dumbass…" He muttered, as his amber eyes lazily looked over the side drawing. He raised a brow. _Was that his miniature self giving Feliciano's miniature self a flower…and blushing?_

His face darkened slightly as he felt irritation and embarrassment well in him. He had only given Feliciano flowers when they were little babies. He had only done it when Feliciano was in need of new flowers to crush up to make up his own paint.

Romano inwardly missed those days. Before his mother was suddenly snatched from them when they were babies and their father was killed in a mission, when his squad was outnumbered by demons. He missed those days.

Sure, he had seen his fair share of demon-killing and then, killing thugs and those who disobeyed the Mafia but he missed the days where he was like Feliciano: clueless of the whole thing.

Feliciano didn't know about the Mafia, their grandfather ran as the Boss. He didn't know Romano was a part of it, actually next in line to have the title of Boss. He still believed the lie Romano had told him years ago. That he worked in a factory.

A factory…

Romano sighed, he missed those days if ignorance dearly.

**Anyways, somehow, he's always sitting at the park, waiting for me. Ve~, it's kind of romantic, no?**

_Romantic, my ass_, Romano thought. The bastard probably looked at Feli and knew he was an airhead and chose a spot easy for his brother to remember to go to. _Yeah,_ he thought, that's it. _The bastard is just observant, not necessarily loyal- just lonely and in need of someone who can talk his ear off._

He inwardly thanked God for Feliciano's random blabber and thoughts. Especially on paper. Only his little twin brother could bring his thoughts away from the dark place they stayed in when on the topic of the Mafia.

_Romance_, Romano thought, bitterly. When was he going to see romance, meet his own Prince Charming?

**He's been over to my house, fratello. The very first person I have let in. I did like you told me to! I don't invite lots of people I and I don't leave people in my house! Ve, I got it right~**

Romano's brotherly senses went on alert at that sentence. Feliciano had done what?

He read that part over, and then again. He blinked, frowning. Looking up at his grandfather, who he saw was eating a small bunch of grapes and some crackers, having already finished his morning wine. He frowned, as he turned back to the letter.

He read that part over. Romano had warned Feliciano before he had left Italy to watch who he let in his house. While the Vargas were known especially in Italy, it was possible that word of their dealings and activities could have gone overseas. If someone saw Feliciano had the same last name as them, he could be thrown in jail.

Even if he had no part of it, Feliciano would be locked away. Or worse, forced to talk, but then came if Feliciano really was the airhead he let everyone to believe he was. Feliciano might have already figured out about Romano's lie about the factory work. He might have realized that his parents' sudden deaths were a bit suspicious.

He might be suspicious as to why a factory worker like Romano was paid so well. He might wonder why Romano always carried a gun in his pocket and an assortment of knives in a variety of places on him. He might wonder why Romano would leave near dusk, and wearing dark clothing. Why he refused to say where he was going. He might wonder why he would then come home and be real quiet and go straight to the grandfather's room and wouldn't let him hear anything.

He might wonder about those days when Romano came a few days later, usually with a large wrapping on him somewhere and saying that "there was an accident" but that the wounds, when he had Feliciano cleaned them, didn't look like anything that could come from working at a factory.

They would be claw marks, or slashes or bites.

Romano wouldn't be turned into a demon, not from a slash or cut. But a bite, those were scary business. He tried to avoid being bitten. He had only been bitten once, when he was still a newbie and he hadn't checked behind him.

He had been jumped and bitten at, lucky for him, a bit low on his upper shoulder. He was lucky he had killed the demon immediately, before it could take more than was needed to kill me or just enough for the demonic enzymes in its saliva and blood to mutate his human genes.

That one time he had been bitten had been Hell. He had not only woken up to vomit, and had been pale. He had been weak, his limbs ached but he knew he had to still report back to his grandfather that the demons had been taken care of.

As soon as he had reported, he had told Feliciano to clean his wounds, especially the blood and where he saw the tiny dots, before he outright passed out.

The only effect of that bite was Romano's heightened eyesight and hearing. He could run a bit faster and was a bit stronger than his size would suggest. But he was still human, no cravings for blood and he could stand sunlight with his head hurting, disorientation or just outright pain.

There were the appearance changes. Romano's hair used to be the same as Feliciano's, but after the bite, it turned darker. His eye color lightened to a very golden-brown. His skin color turned down to an olive tone, and he grew slimmer as his metabolism increased. He had more muscle and he had seen, in the mirror, that his teeth were a bit sharp at the canines.

Some days, when he really thought back to the missions after that bite, he would be glad he had been bitten. It gave him an advantage to get away and get the job done faster. Other days, it gave him an incentive as to why the fuck he should never get bit again.

Because…some days, before Feliciano had left, Romano would avoid the sun, hearing faint voices, and just hide in the dark of his room and just stare. He could be like that for a long time, until the voices left, the voice of the demon he could and didn't want to be.

He didn't want to be a demon. He would be killed almost immediately, either by his grandfather's Mafia, for being a demon and knowing too many of their secrets, or by the demons themselves. An ex-Mafia assassin would not be too welcomed into their community.

That and his name was very well known to them. Romano Lovino Vargas, Boss' right hand of the Italian, next in line of Boss title, one of the two heirs to the Vargas name…

Romano: the killer of more than two hundred demons.

Yeah…he'd been killed on the spot. He'd rather live as a human, with just a few demonic sense extensions.

Romano turned back to the letter, trying to soothe his thoughts. He didn't want to think about how if his grandfather had been caught. His record would be worse than Romano's. He was near sixty years old and had taken enough bites, about four, for his strength to be just as when he was in his prime of youth.

"Okay, moving on," Romano said aloud. Romulus blinked, "We're moving what?" Romano wanted to smile bitterly at his grandfather.

_Sixty years of Mafia work and demon hunting_, he thought as he stared at his grandfather, who looked back at him, honestly confused with an open expression, _four demonic bites, and you still didn't have a damn clue in your head?_

Romano snorted, as he thought, _my family is fucking dysfunctional._

**Anyways, Ludwig seemed to really like coming over. He always ends up cleaning up after me, and says he doesn't mind, so I just let him have his fun. He helped me cook this one time and made this thing called: wurst. It was really good!**

Romano felt himself growl at the first line. He didn't like the idea of Ludwig going in Feliciano's house. His overprotective brotherly traits showed as he worried if Ludwig knew of Feliciano's last name. Or more specifically, what that last name meant in Italy or what rumors of the people with that last name did.

He licked his lips, as he honestly hoped Ludwig was clueless. Even if Ludwig was a bastard, he didn't want Feliciano getting thrown in jail for something he had not knowledge of. It wouldn't be fair to him.

He read on, and his nose wrinkled in disgust. He detested the days when he had to clean up after Feliciano. Sure, his brother could clean, yes, but only really, when he was reminded that the room needed cleaning. Other than that, Feliciano was just as bad as a slob.

He inwardly thought Ludwig was a saint for always cleaning up after his brother. Not too many people would volunteer for that position.

He felt himself let out a loud sound of anger as he came to the last bit of that part of the letter. Feliciano was eating German food. _That disgusting German_…

Romano tried to think up a good word. Mind failing him, he said, "Feliciano is letting that bastard feed him German shit!"

Romulus raised a brow, "And so? You eat Spanish with Antonio when he drags you out…" Romano's face darkened as he dropped the conversation and tried to hide his shame behind the letter.

_Of course_, Romano thought, _of fucking course, he knows about Antonio. You can't hide anything from this guy…_

**Teri, a street cat I picked up, this one time coming home, loves him! She likes to sit in his lap and purr! Ludwig likes to teach her tricks! Ve~ She can already roll over and sit and stuff!**

Romano rolled his eyes. Of course his brother would find a cat to take in. He honestly couldn't see why Feliciano liked cats. Romano was a dog person. He had one too, a nice dog that worked along side him on missions that he named after the Italian capital of Rome.

He still inwardly smiled as he could picture Feliciano's joy at seeing his little tabby cat do the tricks meant for dogs. Rolling over, he could see Feliciano clapping and laughing like he usually did back in Italy.

He felt a small pang of sadness as he remembered the empty room that used to be Feliciano's in the house.

Romano missed his little brother. How during the storms, when Romano tried to look brave though he was always nearly scared out of his skin when the lightning cracked over his window and made the tree outside seem to reach for him and create strange shadows over his walls.

He would be brave for Feliciano though. When the other came running to his room, he would chaste him for a bit about growing up and then let him sleep in his bed. He was always happy to do something big brother like for Feliciano…

But after his grandfather telling him about his inheritance and his position in the Mafia, he found those times to be big brother like reduced more so than he would like.

**Oh! There was this one time I tried to make dinner for us once, all of us, Teri, me and Luddy, and while I was trying to get the chicken, I accidentally burnt my hand. (It really hurt and I yelped, and cried.) Those oven racks are evil, fratello, evil…**

He read the part and had started off with a smile…which suddenly became a frown as he read about his little brother being accidentally burnt, cooking. He frowned, his brotherly instincts kicking in.

He was right about to ask questions aloud about if Feliciano was okay and possibly earn a few looks from his grandfather and get called just a little bit out of his right mind, when he read on.

**And then Ludwig came running to my rescue! (Literally, running, he actually came running into the kitchen. He's really fast~) He helped clean the cut like you used to, and made me sit down so he could bandage it. (I guess all politicians aren't as bad as you say they are, fratello~)**

Romano frowned. While he wouldn't have acted any differently to Feliciano's yelling, he would run if his brother needed him, he had to wonder if something else was off about this Ludwig character.

He could understand his reaction to the scream, he had freak out multiple times when Feliciano screamed. _Even though the younger would often scream for the simplest things_, he thought. But something still felt of about this guy…

He just had this…he felt this uneasy feeling. He felt like something bad was going to happen and it was going to involve or be caused by Ludwig.

God, he hoped his brother would be safe. He wouldn't be able to take it if something happened to Feliciano.

**Though, he was kind of pale, during the part when he saw the cut bleeding, he was also really tense. I guess he had been really worried about me getting it infected or something.**

_That's just weird_, Romano thought, as he read on.

**He didn't want to look at my face when he was wrapping it up. He had started to try to make me feel better by saying everything was going to be okay, but his accent came out really thick and he stopped. I kind of talked to fill the silence and then he looked at me and smiled as he finished.**

Romano frowned, that was unusual. Maybe, Feliciano had left out something. _Why would wrapping a simple cut trigger a reaction like that?_

_What's with this guy_, Romano thought as he read further down the letter. Something is not right. He's just a little too…weird. He looked over to his grandfather, humming an Italian melody and sipping his morning wine as if nothing was wrong.

But Romano knew there was something wrong. He didn't know what it was. But something was off about this Ludwig character. _Lots of money, _he thought, as he read off his mental list_, German, weird reactions, sudden appearances, and strange habits…_

Something was off about him, Romano knew this. But he didn't know what and he didn't why the Hell his little brother couldn't see it.

**Oh! I asked about his reaction to my cut, fratello! I did something smart and surgeon-like, ve~ Wait, is it surgeons who solve mysteries or was that con-artists? Ve, what was it again, fratello, like that guy Sherlock Tomes?**

_Holmes, jackass_, Romano thought as he felt some spite rise in him. He happened to like that series and would not have his idiotic indirectly degrading it. That was low on his scale of bastard-worthiness.

"And it's detectives, idiota," he muttered. "Where the fuck do you get con-artists and surgeons solving mysteries from?"

Romulus raised a brow, his expression shocked, "Wait…surgeons don't solve mysteries?" The Italian frowned, as he leaned back in his chair, in disbelief as Romano stared at him. "I thought for sure, they did…" _Well, that solves the mystery of where fratello gets his logic from…_

He lifted his head, "So who solves the mysteries like Sherlock Fawns?" Romano groaned as his palm met his face in a loud slap. Did he live with idiots or did idiots just naturally find a way to him?

He shook his head, snapping, "Sherlock _Holmes_, you dumbass!" Romulus blinked, "His name isn't Sherlock Fawns?" Romano shook his head, angrily, wishing he had a tomato to eat or a bat to beat his grandfather with.

_He had better be glad,_ he thought, _that I'm still too young to take the title of Boss from him_. Romano shook his head angrily again. He was surrounded by idiots…

He sighed, turning his attention back to the letter. His eyes widened slightly, as he read the next few warms. He felt a pang of jealousy, not that he would admit it.

**When I asked about his reaction to my cut, fratello, he said he didn't like seeing the people he cares for bleed. I don't think he knows, even now, weeks later, how much his saying meant to me. To know he cares enough to help me, even when it's really nothing, and could happen any day, it shows he cares a lot about me.**

Romano felt more jealousy rise in him as he bit his lip softly. He didn't have someone like that. How come Feliciano did? _That isn't fair_, he thought, _he was older and it seemed like Feliciano was doing better than him!_

_Sure_, his thoughts continued, _he's cuter, friendlier, more artistic, lovable, and…_

He stopped his thoughts there. His going on about how much better Feliciano was than him was going to put him in an early coffin. He did not need his self-esteem to fall. That was all comparing him did anyways…

Why did Feliciano have to take after their grandfather and him after his grandfather's only serious son, Romano and Feliciano's father, and his sailor-mouthed wife, their mother? Did God hate him or was He only playing a cruel joke on him for His own amusement?

Romano turned his thoughts back to the letter, before he forgot about finishing it.

**I-I think- I don't know if it's still "just a stupid ((bad word)) crush" like you said, fratello, that I should just "get over". I don't think it's a crush at all, Romano.**

Romano blinked at the use of his name. Feliciano rarely ever called him by his name. He always called him "fratello" or "Roma" or some pet name he had thought of for that time being…

**I know it's only been a little over a year since I met him. (I told you how we met right? How he had saved me from those mean men in the alley and then walking me home? Yeah that.)**

**But fratello, Romano, I think- I think I love him.**

Romano blinked. He had to read that sentence over. Then again, and then re-read it for another time just to make sure he had read right. His amber eyes widened and then he frowned. _What? What was his little brother talking about?_

**I'm not sure what else to say, fratello, so I'll end this letter now. Say ciao to Grandpa "Rome" for me!**

**~Yours in brotherhood,**

_**Feliciano "Feli" Vargas**_

**P.S: Christmas is coming soon so I sent you guys a present! Ve~ Luddy helped too, and sent his own! Hope you like it. Merry Christmas~**

Romano came to the conclusion of the letter with mixed feelings. He wanted to tear it up and then throw it in the fireplace and watch it burn. He had relived too many things amidst reading it. But then again, it was the only letter he had gotten from Feliciano in months.

He inwardly stacked another reason against Ludwig. He was keeping his brother from writing him. _Anything could happen in a month_, he thought, _a week, Hell, even a day!_

He didn't want Feliciano to forget him just because they didn't see each other every day like they used to…

He sighed, and mentally decided to store the letter with the others. In his room, with the other letters in his drawer, it was locked so no one else could get in, short of breaking the sturdy Mafia lock, to read it.

He looked up at the medium sized box on the table. The letter had been the first thing he had taken from it. Romulus had known how Romano would act had he taken anything before him, when it comes to Feliciano, and he had left it alone for the most part.

Romano bit his lip, wondering what Feliciano had sent him. He pulled the box to his chest and then inwardly took a deep breath to see what his dim-wit of twin brother had sent him. His eyes widened and then he swore aloud.

"Uh, old man," he said, blinking to see if he was seeing correctly. Romulus looked up from writing down something in a little notebook. "Yes, Romano?"

Romano pointed to the box. "You have got to see this. Feliciano still thinks we're poor…" Romulus frowned. "Did he send us pasta or something?" Romano shook his head as continued to stare into the box.

Romulus rolled his eyes, "It can't be that bad, Romano. You're just overreacting." Romano shook his head, still staring into the box. "I am not overreacting on this…Feliciano went all out for Christmas, this year." He frowned, "I didn't even know he got paid that much…"

Romulus frowned, his curiosity finally piqued. He looked into the box and then proceeded to blink and then say in Italian, "What the Hell?" Romano nodded, "That was what I was thinking!"

Romulus blinked and then rubbed his eyes, to be sure he was seeing correctly. "He sent us…how much is this?" Romano looked inside and then made a rough estimate. "I'd say about two grand…"

Romulus whistled, "That is a lot of money…" Romano nodded, and then he caught the sight of a piece of paper. He took it and then his amber eyes scanned it, and he began to laugh.

He dove his hand in the box, "Here you go, old man. We made a mistake. The money order isn't from Feli…" his eyebrow twitched, as he thought of how he was going to have to thank the German when they came over.

"So, who is it from, then?" Romulus asked as he smiled at the new record placed in his hands. He couldn't wait to play it. Feliciano always did share his taste for music.

Romano scoffed, "Feliciano's beloved Ludwig." Romulus gaped as Romano read off the letter. "Dear Romano and Romulus Vargas, it was brought to my attention by Feliciano that I could send my best regards for your holiday season. I didn't know of either of your interests so I have left this small sum and two ship tickets for you. I hope my gift reaches you and you use it to see Feliciano this year. We await your arrival."

Romulus was the first to speak. He smiled, getting up, "I'll be making a few calls." The old man was beaming. "I get to see my grandbaby again~"

Romano was left at the table to stare into the box. He knew they weren't poor. But that was the lie they let Feliciano believe since they lived in the country.

He stared into the box once more before he left to pack his own things. He still couldn't believe it. Because of that…generous potato bastard, who knew nothing about him or his grandfather, who knew nothing of his true dealings in the Mafia or demons, or the bite he harbored which made him different…he was going to be able to see his brother again.

He was right about to swear when he heard the voice whisper in his mind:

"_Don't trust him. He'll burn you."_

_**-x-**_

**This ended a bit lightly, with only a little dark themes…**

Anyone a little curious about the demon that bit Romano?

If you don't know, $20 was a lot in the 20s, and as a tip, for each waiter/waitress— that's kind of strange. Ludwig didn't know that. Hell is more advanced/evolved than the Earth at this time.

**And having 2 grand sent to you with two ship tickets…that's freaking awesome.**

I'm sorry this update is sooo late. There was the "Great Purge" scare going on and some of my stories are M. I got scared and decided to hide under my bed with all of my Hetalia plushies while my brother fumed in my rocking chair.

Don't ask why I have a rocking chair…why do you have a nose? DX

**Please review, reviews get Italian wine and roses. **

**(Don't tell anyone, if you're underage, say you're in Italy, they have no drinking age. XD)**

**Read and ****REVIEW****.**


	5. Love Felt

**Hell's Tango**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** AU The young male was often seen in one of the girls' dresses, singing atop a piano. That's how he found him. He was beautiful; pure, ripe for the taking. However, he couldn't bring himself to silence that pretty voice…Demon!GermanyxFlapper!Italy

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

Author Alert: RenofAmestris

Story alert/ Favorites: ** ElizabethHoWey, Magik Sause Of Death (lol), nina amina, silvermoonmanga **

Reviewer(s)!: **Japanese Sinister, Lady-Pyrien, JKProductions, ashley12chan **

Japanese Sinister: Good, I don't have to worry about you crying on me. You shall find out soon about the demon that bit Romano. Ludwig is actually being kind of dumb in my opinion. I mean really?

Lady-Pyrien: Thank you for reviewing, Romano was a bit of a problem for me, but I agree with you. I already saved my work.

JKProductions: Yeah, a beta! I shall keep my account for as long as possible!

ashley12chan: Shh! If you're over 14, then it's legal in Germany. In Italy, there is no drinking limit.

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**In case you didn't know, but I did put up the 4****th**** chapter over the M-Warning. **

**You guys might want to read that…So, go read, unless you already did. If so, enjoy this chappie! ;)**

**So yeah, this story did not make my email suicidal. Let's fix that, shall we?**

**Recommended Listening: **"Like You'll Never See Me Again" by Alicia Keys

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**.:Chapter Five:.**

_Love Felt_

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::_** [Feliciano]**_

"Feli?" Feliciano looked up from the light-colored and floating bubbles in his bathtub. He pushed his hair from his eyes, the wet auburn lifting from over his sight, whilst still resting warmly over his exposed skin. Light tan, sun-kissed from all of his former days in Italy, glistened with water. His arms were in his lap, face betraying his innocence. He had forgotten about the German in his home. He straightened into a sit, in his bathtub, the water sloshing and splashing against him a bit.

He called back a response, "Si? Is something wrong?" He looked around, as he sought the sight of his towel. He hadn't told Ludwig yet, his true gender, but he planned to…soon.

Easing himself forward, he snatched the end of it. He put the white protection over his secret, and then called out, "Do you need to come in or can I wait until I get out?" He heard a slight shuffle from outside the doors and Feliciano felt his heart race faster. Was Ludwig really going to come in?

No, he realized when he heard the German gently scold the cat. Feliciano didn't even realize it, but his shoulders slumped in disappointment. He didn't know why, but a part of him had been hoping that the German would come in.

Then Ludwig asked, from the other side of the door, "I can project my voice through the door." He further said, albeit some of his confusion coming in the form of his German accent, as he asked, "Do you want me to come inside instead?"

Yes, Feliciano thought, but his lips made him say something else. "Um, no, it's alright. I can hear you okay from inside." Feliciano paused inwardly and then, he felt himself want to whimper. There went another chance of telling the German. His brother was right; he was really bad at confrontation.

"Oh," Feliciano thought he heard something behind the German's accent, but he told himself to stop leading himself to believe in things he could not have. He could not have Ludwig. The other's visits were getting to be less, but the only excuse Ludwig would give when he came back was "It's just work, at home, coming up. It will all be finished soon."

Feliciano thoughts began to lead him to think otherwise. Maybe Ludwig really was married. Maybe Ludwig's beautiful and talented and better wife was getting tired of her husband coming over to entertain and clean up after him. Him, he was a recognized face among men for his appearances to sing at the gentleman's club for his beautiful voice.

He didn't deserve Ludwig. He was just a lowly whore, who didn't even sleep with the men who paid to see "her." He didn't deserve to see Ludwig when he had a better wife to come home to. What if Ludwig had children?

He dipped his head below the water level, as he heard Ludwig explain something about them going out later. A surprise, he had said, and his early Christmas present. Ludwig wasn't going to be with him for the actual holiday, due to some "external factors".

Feliciano hid a sniffle behind a small splash. He could already imagine what those "external factors" were. A beautiful blonde woman, with an actual chest versus the padded corset Feliciano wore to keep up his feminine appearance. She would be beautiful woman who didn't need for him to walk her down a street without accidentally being thought of as a whore for his work attire.

She would be an intelligent woman, a grown woman, who could solve her own problems and pay her bills without having to write a note to remind him to do so every month. She would be able to think for herself, never second guessing herself. She wouldn't have had to move from her home country, leaving her old grandfather and twin brother alone in the countryside, because her family wanted her to have better chances of work in America.

She wouldn't be like him…

**She would be better.**

Feliciano sighed into the bubbles, Ludwig had left the bathroom door a while ago, and he was left to his thoughts. He didn't— would ever and couldn't ever— stand up to anyone deserving to be Ludwig's wife. He was just him. He wasn't any more deserving of Ludwig and a long-standing position with him than any other whore on the street.

He was just a lowly whore, who teased and sung, while braver women actually took the man.

**Ludwig deserved better than him.**

He snuggled deeper under the warm and soapy waters, the only parts of him above the water level were the few things above his small nose. His amber eyes stung. It's was not from the water, it was because his feelings were being ripped of their protective happy façade; leaving the sensitive Feliciano Vargas underneath.

He blew a breath underwater, bubbles rising up from the air pushing them, but Feliciano found little joy in watching them float about him. He stared flatly at the water, moving ever so slowly as he inched forward to grab his wash cloth to actually finish bathing.

He started washing himself by gently scrubbing away the oils on his arms, as he remembered his grandfather doing for him a long time ago in Italy. He was silent, humming no tune and singing no song. But then he stopped, his arms falling to his sides in the water, the cloth sitting in his lap, as he made a soft sigh.

_This is silly_, he thought, _I can't…I can't get myself upset over something that's not probably even true_. He tried to make himself feel better. A self pep-talk, he decided, would be just the thing to make him feel better. He finished his bath quickly, after that, and then came with the immediate problem. His bedroom was right across the bathroom. Between those two rooms was the living room.

_If Ludwig was in the living room, _he thought, as he made to rise from the bathtub_. Would he see me? What would he say…?_

Feliciano shook his head from those thoughts. He hoped that Ludwig had stepped outside or was in the kitchen. He didn't want to found out because of a simple bath. He wanted to be the one who told Ludwig. It was the only secret he knew of between them. Ludwig seemed pretty much honest with him, all the time.

He spoke of his day, in little vague ways such saying he had been given more paperwork and then saying he had played with his dogs. He said he had an older brother, and a sort-of father figure who raised him when his father was not around. Feliciano loved to hear these tales and, in return, he told some stories of his life in Italy with his brother and grandfather.

He made sure to edit out parts that would disclose his true gender, which was easy enough for him, as Feliciano noticed he had a lot of girlish tendencies as a small child while his brother, Romano, was the more boy-like one of them.

"Hm," Feliciano said, as he looked into a mirror hanging on the bathroom wall. He checked his appearance. His hair had grown longer, ever since Ludwig had said he liked braiding his hair after his baths.

'It feels like silk to him,' Feliciano recalled the words and smiled. He ran his fingers through his hair, the water immediately going onto his skin as it slid down his arms. His hair was now past his shoulders and near mid-way over his back.

_Two years_, Feliciano thought, _almost two years. Soon, it will be a new year_. He tried to think of what it would be like, but all his mind kept picturing was an image of two bodies on the porch step in Italy, smiling. It was of a strong blonde, with a thin smile, and a beaming little brunette. A little tabby and two great dogs sat straight at the blonde's side.

Feliciano felt his fingers still. He paused, as his eyes closed for a moment. Feelings stirred in his chest. Feelings of admiration, joy and a bubble of happiness, whenever he thought of it, sat beside feelings of loneliness, envy and a growing pit of sadness. Feliciano wanted Ludwig, but…because of his outward appearance; he had no idea if the other would remain once he found out the truth.

Would Ludwig remain? Would he leave? What would happen to their relationship? Would Ludwig stop the little chaste touches he gave to Feliciano's hands? Would Ludwig turn away and turn down, when Feliciano tried to greet him with kisses? Would Ludwig even show up for him at all, at their usual park?

_But_, Feliciano's mind doubted, _what if things go in a different direction?_

What if Ludwig stayed, but because he found that Feliciano was really a young man, he treated him differently? What if, instead of innocent little touches, it turned to harsh and sudden grabs like the men tried to take him when they had had too much to drink. Would the kisses turn to something else?

Feliciano had never tried to instigate anything with his kisses, but if Ludwig pressed for more…would he let him? If Ludwig knew he was a man, not a woman, would he still want to sleep with him? Would Ludwig even love him anymore?

Feliciano detested and loathed the idea of just being a toy to Ludwig's desire. He felt like crying at the thought of it. He would lose one of the things that he loved Ludwig for. The German was a gentleman with him. Even when Feliciano wore something suggestive for work, something that had lots of eye-catching flashes of frills and skin, when every man was whistling and giving lewd comments, Ludwig would still act the part of the gentleman.

He would bow at the waist, in a graceful manner, and smile gently. He formally greeted the Italian, made him feel like a high princess and he was his white knight, as he kissed the top of Feliciano's hand. Feliciano would always blush lightly and giggle, as he inwardly felt smug when he caught how many women were giving Ludwig longing looks. He felt like he was the center of Ludwig's affection, when he saw how Ludwig didn't give other women passing them the same treatment as he gave Feliciano.

**He wanted to remain with the gentle and polite Ludwig.**

Feliciano sighed softly, as he chanced his luck and peeked out from the door. His eyes darted to the living room and he saw Teri playing with yet another bundle of yarn that Ludwig had brought for her. He smiled, and then he listened attentively for the sounds of the German walking about.

He heard a slight disturbance in his kitchen and the soft murmurings of a certain blonde as he meticulously cleaned counters and other surfaces. Feliciano held back a giggle. He found it funny how Ludwig maintained order. The blonde was always helping Feliciano clean up after his day of work. He would play with Teri and sometimes, if he could stay a bit longer, he would help with dinner and eat with Feliciano on the balcony.

Seeing his chance, Feliciano opted for sprinting over tip-toeing as it take him longer time. Also, he had a tendency to trip when on his tip toes, for whatever reason.

Clutching his towel protectively around him, Feliciano dashed to his room. He thought he was safe; he had his hand on the doorknob, when he saw Ludwig raising a brow at him. The blonde was running a wet rag over a pan, "Why were you just running?"

Feliciano blinked, looking from Ludwig to the kitchen. He hadn't even heard the other move. He was fast. How did he do that? Feliciano's face then blushed a bit, as he stammered, "I have to get dressed. I didn't want for you to see me without my, um…"

Ludwig caught the discreet hint, as his face dusted lightly. He closed his eyes, the action looking natural and normal, as he said, "I shall leave you to yourself, then." His accent was hinting at his words and Feliciano smiled weakly, as he stifled a giggle.

Ludwig disappeared behind the wall to the kitchen and Feliciano ducked inside his room. The moment he was inside, his back met the back of the door. He slid down the vertical surface to the floor. His wet hair clung to his shoulders, as his chest rose quickly with each breath. His heart was racing. Amber eyes stood out against pink-flushed skin.

He had stood in front of Ludwig… with nothing but a towel…his brother, Romano, would have a heart attack if he found out.

Feliciano giggled, before slapping a hand across his mouth. That was not funny; he tried to tell himself, despite the giggles still determined to spill from him. He shook his head, wet droplets flicking to the wooden floor, as he made a move to stand.

Then, his eyes caught it.

It was glistening on his dresser. He walked towards it and smiled fondly. The necklace, the one Ludwig had given him on the day they met, was glittering and catching the light of the moon. He smiled, as he reached for it.

The jewelry was warm in his hands, as he put it on. He held the gem, turning several ways in his mirror. Red suited him so well. He turned to his closet and fished around for a suitable dress. He didn't work, thankful for the Christmas holiday, and so he didn't have to dress particularly revealing.

In the end, after he realized he had possibly wasted enough time, he chose a scarlet dress with black ruffles at the hem. The collar was high on his neck, but as it came to his chest, it dipped in the shape a small V-shape. The dress was longer than most of his others, but it boasted a slit up to his calf, so Feliciano thought it evened itself out.

To top off his look, he combed his hair back and styled a French braid he could be proud of. It hugged his head, but sloped downwards to trail behind his hair into a soft bun. He had it done in less than five minutes. It was a new record for him.

He sat a decorative miniature black hat atop his head, using pins to keep it there and not falling off its strategic place on his head to slightly cover the upper right of his face, and accenting his amber eyes with the black fabric.

He did his make-up, with steady hands. Applying his red lipstick with care, so as not to smear, he tried to make himself look as pretty as possible. He didn't want to make Ludwig look bad, and he had to keep up the appearance of a high-class woman. Ludwig deserved that.

Once he capped the lipstick, he was done. He looked into the mirror. He smiled, the woman in the mirror looking beautiful as he did so. He threw a black shawl of his shoulders, dug around for his black boots and Feliciano was out the door.

He called out, "Luddy! I'm ready to—" Then, his eyes met a smiling Ludwig at the door, adjusting his deep red tie. "Shall we?" He asked, holding out his arm to Feliciano to take. The Italian smiled, as he took it, his heart fluttering in his chest.

"Ve, off we go," he replied, and they walked out the door. Ludwig closed it behind him, locking it soundly and slipping the key in his pocket. Feliciano trusted him with the key when they went out. It made them seem closer in his mind that he trusted the German blonde with his only house key. He liked how the closeness felt in his heart.

The moment their feet touched the main street, heads turned to the seemingly rich and happy couple. They saw the tall blonde in his expensive dark suit, his grey vest and pressed shirt. There was a silver-lined black cross on a silver necklace around his neck. A golden chain ran from his pant loop to his front vest pocket, suggesting he had a golden pocket watch. His shiny shoes caught the light and looked even more elegant.

His little partner, a beautiful woman, looked no less stunning. Her hair was done up, seemingly by professionals. Her make-up was crafted by an artist. Her outfit was at the top of fashion, high-class, and possibly worth a fortune. Her very appearance made other women, the superficial one always dying to be the center of attention, look down at their clothes and then frown.

Then, their ears caught their accents as the rich couple spoke to each other. The beautiful woman was possibly from the Mediterranean, the daughter of a wealthy Italian-American family. The male sounded to be German, and he was most likely the son of a wealthy German family.

People watched, with awe, as the happy couple strolled past. With not a care for the world that saw them smiling and talking. They were too lost in their own happiness to even notice.

Feliciano smiled, he was having so much fun today. Ludwig had said he was taking him somewhere for his present. Feliciano assumed it was somewhere with pasta, but a part of him doubted it. A part of him thought it had something to do with the box Ludwig had sent with his letter and present to his brother and grandfather in Italy.

He couldn't wait to see the present. _Maybe it was a new car? Or maybe it another kitty_, he thought,_ a big and fluffy kitty?_ Feliciano smiled wider at the thought, and then his mind added, _with an even bigger bowl of pasta!_

He found himself skipping lightly, tugging Ludwig faster, as politely, as he possibly could. "Walk faster," he beaming, with a pleading undertone that was uncaught by anyone other than Ludwig. The German smiled, knowingly, purposely keeping slow. "I want to see my present!" Feliciano added, but Ludwig only chuckled, as he shook his head.

"Nein," he said, and Feliciano's nose wrinkled at the one word answer. Ludwig caught the action, finding it cute, and continued, "You shall see your gift soon enough. They're coming up in a few turns." Feliciano perked up at that answer, "Really?"

Ludwig nodded, finding the Italian's reactions endearing. Feliciano was certainly eager to see what he had gotten him as his gift. Christmas was coming up soon, but this year, Ludwig was going to miss it. His father had sent home a letter that declared he would be at the manor around Christmas Eve. The meeting was a day late of Christmas. He wouldn't be able to leave the manor without drawing suspicion. So, he was giving his gift to the Italian early.

With an added bonus, he thought. He slipped his hand, discreetly, into his pocket to feel the small box's presence. Its velvet outer casing made it to the nerves on the top of his fingertips and he smiled. He could do this, all he had to do was get to the location he designated on his letter to Romano and grandfather, and then he did as he saw other humans do. He would ask in Italian, to further make it memorable.

_I could do this_, he thought, repeatedly. _This is simple, next to all of the harder things you have done_. He thought of harder things to accomplish: trying to remain on his brother's horse, confronting his father during one of his moods, and remaining in the same room with Roderich when Gilbert's pranks have gone too far.

This calmed him down and he found he was able to stand with more confidence. He kept teasing his precious Italian, vague details of the promised gift. "It's very special," he said, "I'm sure, you'll love it."

Feliciano pouted, sticking out his bottom lip. The action made pressure appear on Ludwig's gums, as his fangs threatened to make their own entrance known to the world. Ludwig smiled, shielding his teeth, as he said, "Now, Feli, stop making that face."

But he was laughing, not helping in the least. Feliciano huffed, and then stopped tugging in favor of taking in the sights.

Feliciano looked, the tail ends of his auburn hair tickling at the back of his ears. He saw a group of young girls, and he waved as he and Ludwig passed them. He felt it was only polite to wave at passerby. The girls' eyes widened, one girl sputtering and then waving back. Her friends looked back at her, as if she was crazy, and Feliciano giggled.

He felt, more than saw, Ludwig turn his head at the sound of him giggling. The German smiled, squeezing his hand gently. Feliciano could feel the strength running through the other's veins, even though he was holding back, Feliciano admired the German's strength.

The Italian came to a familiar street and he frowned, as he looked at German, trying to find answers in the other's face. Ludwig paused, "What is it?"

Feliciano looked back at the sign, thinking that something must have been wrong. Maybe Ludwig had gotten his directions wrong. "Why are we going to the docks? Only people coming in or out of America go there…"

Feliciano felt his heart stammering in his chest. What did this mean? Had he dressed up for nothing? Wait, he thought, maybe Ludwig was sending him to Italy for Christmas. But he didn't even tell Feliciano to pack clothes or anything. He couldn't go overseas; the quickest trip could be days long, without extra clothes!

Ludwig smiled again, squeezing Feliciano's hand tighter, whilst still holding back from crushing the other's fragile hand. Feliciano looked up into the other's eyes, amber met ice blue.

Feliciano's amber eyes widened, as he finally caught on. Ludwig's smile grew and his eyes twinkled in the dark. "You…" Feliciano began, and then he spun sharply to look behind him. A ship was just docking. A ship, for expensive patrons only, was docking into New York.

"You…" Feliciano tried again, but words failed him, as he saw the ships' passengers start to get off. A few stumbled, gaining their land legs back, as some caught quickly and began walking into the arms of their happy and greeting families.

Feliciano looked back behind him, Ludwig was still smiling. Feliciano's eyes were nearly brimming with tears, as joy filled his chest, "You…you-!" He tried to say, but gave up and instead pulled Ludwig's head down to claim his lips in passionate kiss.

He pulled away, but held to the German's face, eyes about to brim. "You," he tried again, but failed once more. "I can never repay you." He finally said, and Ludwig put his hands over Feliciano's, smiling. "You don't have to."

"But—" Feliciano protested, but Ludwig shushed him with another kiss. This one was softer, gentle, and made Feliciano's heart pound through his ribs. Ludwig was smiling, as he pulled away, "Nein, no arguing, Feliciano. Go meet your family."

Feliciano's eyes were about to brim over. His lips were quivering, and he was whimpering, to hold back inevitable tears. He stammered, "I-I…" Ludwig smiled warmly, taking his hands from his face and then leading the small Italian closer to the docks.

"Go," Ludwig urged, as an all too familiar voice swore at someone on the ship to hurry up. Feliciano, barely holding back another whimper, was smiling with a quivering lip. The Italian turned to Ludwig, and whispered, "Thank you…"

Then, the little Italian took off. Feliciano was running effectively and quickly in his heels, eyes brimming and calling out, "Fratello! Fratello! Romano Vargas, mi fratello!"

A dark-haired patron, still aboard the ship, blinked. His suitcase dropped from his hand, as an older male finally pulled himself away from some pretty girl's face. Romano looked back at the docks. He knew that voice. His amber eyes searched the crowds, but it was still too thick to find a specific face.

The voice called out again, "Romano, mi fratello, look down to your left!" Romano gulped, and then looked down. His eyes widened as he found a familiar face among the sea of strangers. He looked past the elaborate make-up, the fancy dress, and long hair. He just saw the face, and those familiar bright amber eyes.

The little body waved up at him, only hand holding their dress. Jumping slightly, and earning a few looks from random men as they saw a pretty girl waving and hopping to someone onboard the ship.

Romano blinked, eyes threatening to brim with tears that he refused to show. A wide grin broke out over his face. He didn't even realize he had done it; he threw himself over the ship's rail, knowing he would survive even the hardest fall. His descent earned a few gasps and looks of surprise. One chuckle from the older male he had sailed with, as they took his suitcase and walked down the ship the correct way.

As soon as Romano's feet touched down on the land, another pair of feet rose into the air. Romano had picked Feliciano in his arms, laughing, as the other let tears spill over his face, unashamed. Romano was barely managing any words to say. But Feliciano's mouth was going seemingly a mile a minute. He spoke quickly, in Italian, "Romano! My brother! You're here, you're really here! You came to see me!"

Romano was nodding quickly to each and every word, not even caring how he looked to others. Feliciano's face was beginning to have tear streaks from his dark eyeliner. But, the younger Italian didn't care. He was too busy, as he peppered his brother's cheeks in kisses.

Romano held the other close, laughing, and most of the crowd caught on their similar appearance and labeled them as siblings not lovers. A few families smiled, seeing the joy in two siblings reunited, while others tried to move faster to give the Italians more privacy.

"You're really here," Feliciano said into Romano's neck. He couldn't believe it. After years, his fratello was back to him. He didn't have to send letters anymore. He didn't have to imagine his brother's words or thoughts. He wouldn't have to do that, anymore.

**Romano was right here, in America, with him.**

"I'm really here, idiota," Romano replied, as he held the back of the other's head. He was practically holding his younger twin brother in his arms. He didn't care that the other looked like a girl, in his dress and make-up with his long hair. He didn't care. He had his baby brother back at his side.

Romulus finally made his way to his grandchild, and he heard a voice say, "Allow me to help, Romulus." The Italian elder looked up and his light-brown eyes met ice blue. He smiled, but his nerves and his old bites sensed something was off about the pale man in front of him. He extended a suitcase, "That's Romano's, I doubt he'll be carrying anything right now…"

Both of them turned to the Italian siblings, still hugging each other as if the moment they let go, the other would vanish form their arms. "They missed each other so," Romulus said, smiling warmly at his grandchild. He caught the sight of a tear on Romano's face and smiled wider. The older boy had actually shed a tear.

"Indeed," Ludwig said, and then he turned to Romulus, after taking Romano's suitcase. He extended his hand, the black glove not missing Romulus's attention. "I'm Ludwig. I thank you for coming all this way and putting aside time for Feliciano."

Romulus smiled, adding the glove to his mental list. He gripped Ludwig's hand and squeezed, before he shook it. "I am Feliciano's grandfather, Romulus." Romulus felt Ludwig shake his hand. He could feel that the other was holding back tremendous strength. Romulus pulled his hand away, standing straight, "So you are the one who sent us such a present."

Ludwig smiled, looking a bit embarrassed, "Ja, yes, I did. I trust that the gift arrived well?" Romulus nodded, "I'm here, aren't I?" Ludwig caught a hint of something in the other's eyes and smiled to show he meant no harm. "That is true," he said, and then he turned back to see Feliciano whispering something to Romano. He read his lips to be: "I missed you so much…"

He smiled, a sensation running up his arm. He looked up at the moon, and smiled as he saw its fullness. Romulus caught the action, frowning. But then he saw the blonde reach into his pocket. Actually, a whole crowd of people saw the blonde German reach into his pocket.

All of them, but Feliciano and Romano, saw the blood-red garnets, carved in the shape of roses, catch the light of the moon before the diamond, carved to look like a heart, they hugged shone. All of them saw the gold band, with elaborate script saying "Feliciano Vargas" on its sides.

Romulus dropped his suitcase and his jaw. People sputtered, and one woman swooned in her sister's arms, muttering to herself. Some men were shaking their heads, grinning, as they saw Ludwig hide the ring behind his back and stroll calmly to Romano.

"Feliciano Vargas?"

Romano stiffened at the last name, but only few caught it, even fewer knew why he really had winced in the first place. Feliciano turned in his brother's arms, only for his amber eyes to widen as he saw his beloved blonde German go down on one knee.

"_Mi sposerai?_" Ludwig asked. All three of the Italians heard him and knew exactly what he had said. His pronunciation had been perfect. Feliciano felt tears slip past his cheeks, grinning, as he thought that this was the greatest Christmas he had ever had.

Before Romano had even an opportunity to open his mouth, Feliciano had cried, "Si! Si, si, si, si!" He had leapt at Ludwig who caught him easily, laughing. Romano stared, wide-eyed and mouth gaping. Romulus shook his head in disbelief, and then laughed heartily. He held his stomach as he saw the shock on Romano's face.

Feliciano was crying openly, again, as Ludwig slipped the ring on his ring finger. People were clapping and cheering. The stars glittered, as if happy for the newly engaged couple. Romano was still staring, but then his thoughts caught up to the present and he screamed, "You fucking Potato Bastard! How dare you not tell me about this! Why I ought—" The Italian's further screams of rage were cut short by Romulus.

The elder Italian was crying in joy, as he looked at his little grandson. He could see the happiness in both of the couple's eyes. He felt happy for them. He knew Romano was too, he was just using his own way to show it again. Either that…or he was finally angry Ludwig hadn't told him, he was going to do this on the same day of their arrival.

No one saw the white-haired male and the dark-haired male behind him, smile knowingly. No one saw the darker haired one clap softly and the white-haired whisper lewd comments about a honeymoon. No one saw them smile once more, before saying in unison, in German, "Until death do thee part…"

**No one saw the look in their eyes as they both knew in their hearts that their deaths would be soon…**

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*wipes tear* Well, that was my very first proposal scene ever written.

How did I do? Did it suck? Not romantic enough?

How did everyone like this chapter?

I'm so sorry this is late. I have no excuse for keeping you guys waiting.

I am ashamed. Please don't hurt me!

*hides under bed*

I'm sorry…!

Ugh, I hope you guys can forgive me.

Until next time, this yaoi fangirl says, "I'm taking my ass to bed!"

**READ AND ****REVIEW!**


	6. I'm Scared

**Hell's Tango**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** AU The young male was often seen in one of the girls' dresses, singing atop a piano. That's how he found him. He was beautiful; pure, ripe for the taking. However, he couldn't bring himself to silence that pretty voice…Demon!GermanyxFlapper!Italy

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

Author Alert: nadzuke eno mono

Story alert/ Favorites: **SniperAmber, , Chibi Night Angel, JoyHeart, yuz, bandgeek5100, ItalysWifeMab, Moongirl12121, ForTheLoveOfGermany, the one who sealed your fate, me-meself-and-I, nadzuke eno mono, lovinito**

Reviewer(s)!: **Lady-Pyrien, xXBlackieChanXx, Chibi Night Angel, Japanese Sinister, JoyHeart, JKProductions, silver Alida, Animaegan, littlewolfwindspeaker, ItalysWifeMab, Moongirl12121, ForTheLoveOfGermany, Anonymous **

Lady-Pyrien: Don't you worry; Feliciano's true gender will be revealed soon.

xXBlackieChanXx: I want to use smut, to reveal Feliciano's gender, but…I don't know if anyone wants smut for this story…

Chibi Night Angel: I am so glad you didn't find the proposal too cheesy. *smiling* Alas, paradise must be ruined, but at least Roderich and Gilbert kept quiet. Romano AND Romulus are suspecting something about Ludwig. ;) Heheh

Japanese Sinister: I'm glad you enjoyed it. Germania has a hand in why the relationship will end, but no spoilers. ;P Useless panic is funny. Poor Feliciano, he was worrying over nothing. (Thanks for the new song, I love it! *listening to it on ipod*

JoyHeart: I'm glad you liked the romantic bit, and try not to think too hard. Romulus is an old man, and an airhead. For all we know, he's an idiot who runs on instincts. XD And I was hoping someone would point that out Feliciano's last name. Thank you. You will find out why in this chapter. Oh yes, don't let the bubbles make you explode dear. Exploding looks painful…

JKProductions: I'm glad you guys found my Author's Note ending funny. ^_^

silver Alida: I'm glad you thought it was worth the wait. I'm happy I made you smile, that I gave good foreshadowing, and that you found my writing realistic and worth reading. You're right, Romano isn't Romano without a death threat to every German he faces.

You should fear the fore coming plot, it will get sad, Feliciano will get his pressure relieved, trust me on that.

Animaegan: Mwuahahah! *coughs* I'll give you this update as my way of apologizing.

littlewolfwindspeaker: *hugs* Please, don't cry, everything will be okay, hun.

ItalysWifeMab: Oh my Gott, I saw your comment, I laughed so hard. You're right, though, Luddy likes it like that. XD (2) I'm glad I evoked some emotion from you, and that you enjoy this story. :D

Moongirl12121: LOL, I didn't expect that kind of review. FELICIANO, RETREAT! XD (2) Thank you for saying so~ ;) (3) Roderich can make the most awesome person cry. XD (4) Yes sir, Italians have it good…And yes, Ludwig really wants them to like him. I mean hey, you usually don't someone you like, do you? (Hopefully, not…) (5) I'm glad, you're happy. I'm glad you thought that the proposal~ But I'm sorry…I'm so sorry.

And really, using German in a review? Are you trying to butter me up? ;3

ForTheLoveOfGermany: O_O Why would you want to kill ME? That's not fair! DX

the one who sealed your fate: ….That is so ironic! Your username showed up and I was like: "Damn, they have no chance now…" XD

Anonymous: Oh yes! There is one named "Auf Wiedersehen, Sweetheart" that's set in WWII and this other that called "The Hurricane." Those are the ones I can think of off the top of my head at such a late hour. I have more in my favorites. But read those first, it may take a while as they're long, but's worth it. (This Hurricane is completed, but Auf Wiedersehen isn't, but that one is so much longer.)

**P.S:** Could you all please vote on my poll? If you have a suggestion, PM me and I'll see if I can write it. If I can, I promise, I'll add it to the choices. So far: Everyone wants a bat-shit Italy and some UKUS/RusAme Royalty AU! :3

**P.S.S:** Please find it in your heart of hearts to forgive this bitch! DX I leave for Denmark soon, hooray, wish me luck with the Danes! (My Ukraine-ness is going to get me molested in an alley, I just know it. T-T) Anyways, off my shit of my life, congrats to my first reviewer for this update! You made my official 50th reviewer! (I couldn't use the actual 50th one, because you didn't have an account. D: I'm sorry.)

P.S.S.S: What the fuck does 'P.S.' even MEAN? DX

**My email is back to pressing charges…Thanks, guys! :D**

**Recommended Listening: **"I am Terrified" by IAMX

**.:Chapter Six:.**

_I'm Scared_

_**[Ludwig]**_

"Ludwig, please go to bed."

Ludwig looked up from the sheet music, his hair giving a half-hearted flop over his face to all but over droop like lifeless pieces of silk over his pale face. He blinked a few times, to focus his vision, but upon finding his vision still blurred, he frowned.

Someone was standing in the doorway. Was that someone with brown hair? He couldn't really tell. It was a bit dark, too early in the morning for the sun to be up and he had forgotten to relight the candle he had been using earlier.

Whoever they were, they had someone with them. The other person was taller, by a few good inches, and had snow white hair and what he thought were the strangest color for eyes. They were a pure blood red, which was weird. He thought the only person in the kingdom with red eyes was his brother…but he was sleeping, right?

**He must be seeing things. **

**He was so tired…**

A yawn accidentally escaped him, and he growled. Even though it was his body's way of showing he was tired, he didn't want to hear any excuses. He had to finish memorizing this piece. If he could just get his last portion right before the sun came up, he swore he would go to bed. Right after this piece—

"Roderich, please move," Ludwig heard someone say. Before his sleepy brain could process anything, he heard a crash as his music stand was knocked aside. A soft sigh, as someone mumbled about intolerable messes and a disrespect to beautiful music.

**Wait, was he floating?**

Ludwig blinked, and yawned again. As his jaw made its descent to close, his eyes blurred with sleep tears, and he felt his eyelids droop. He was on someone's shoulder. He could feel their strong bones sticking him in the ribs. But who? Who was carrying him?

He yawned again, and smacked his mouth. His tongue felt like wet sandpaper in his mouth, and he longed for nothing below sleeping through a whole day. _Alright_, he thought, _I could doze for a little while. His_ eyes began to slip closed, as he thought, _Where's the harm? I can finish that piece, when I wake up…_

He didn't remember the trip to his room, but he did recall startling awake when he felt the familiar press of his bed against his body. Abruptly, he sat upright, hair flopping as he stared wide-eyed at someone who was trying to ease him back down.

"West," they began. Ludwig blinked, as the figure came into focus. He tried to hold back a yawn, but it came anyway. "Go to sleep, big guy," the figure with the strange red eyes said. "You need it more than Roderich before one of his concerts…"

"Who?" Ludwig slurred, around a yawn. The figure chuckled, as they effectively overpowered him and pushed him back onto the mattress. "Bed, West, you need some sleep in the worst way." The figure smiled gently, and Ludwig found himself smiling back.

Something about them was familiar in a way, and that smile…it just seemed to say that everything was going to be alright. That he could rest easy and when he awoke, he would awake to things being as calm as the others promised. "Whatever you say…wait, who are you again?"

They chuckled again, and Ludwig grew more confused. What was so funny about his question? A surprisingly gentle hand brushed his hair from his forehead, "Go to sleep, West. We need you ready and alert tomorrow."

Ludwig felt himself nod, against his pillows, as he yawned once more. Light glinted off his fangs. His eyelids drooped once more, but this time he didn't fight to remain awake. He just let his eyes slip closed like they naturally should. As he lay drifting off to sleep, he felt that familiar hand brush his hair from his forehead once more.

He heard them whisper, "We need you, Ludwig, you gotta be ready for us." A pause, before a whispered, "We need you to be ready…" He felt the bed shift as their weight left, and after another soft murmur, he heard the door close.

**-xxx-**

"_Ve~" Bright amber eyes, beamed up at him, "The ducks are at the pond, today! Can we feed them? Can we? Can we? Can we? Can we?" Ludwig found himself letting a small smile cross over his face, as he laughed softly._

"_Ja, yes," he said, "We can. Do you have the bread for them?" Bright amber eyes looked confused for a moment, and then they brightened up once more. "Nope! But we can go buy some, right? Then-then, the birdies can have fresh bread! It would be more delicious and healthy for them, right?"_

_He found his smile growing, as he nodded. "That is true, in a way. It would be healthier than stale bread, wouldn't it?" That sweet face, so pure and innocent, beamed at him. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. The only thing he had ever seen that looked at him without seeing what the others saw._

_He was seen as just The prince._

_He was seen as just as The son of Royalty._

_He was seen as The top solider in the Militant Course._

_He was seen as The excelling protégé under the Royal Musician._

_But, when he was here, with the one he longed to be his own, none of those titles existed. He was just Ludwig. He never thought being so simple could make feel so happy. It was instilled upon him, when he able to get his few glimpses of his father and the seemingly heroic and extraordinary things he did, the more and better the titles, the more in control and the more confident he would be._

_But he felt the opposite. As he began to try to excel, he found more responsibility and expectations thrown at him. He was supposed to do this. He had to do that. He could have none of this, as this would affect such and such results. He couldn't do this, as this would affect such and such image of him._

_All of these burdens and chains attempting to tie him down into his own personal Hell forever…But then came those bright amber eyes bouncing his way. It was that beautiful voice, as that pretty little mouth sang a song of having waited forever and a day for this day to come._

_Initially, he had never believed in love. Royal blood was thought to be pure, and only to be mixed with blood just as pure. His marriage had been arranged, at birth, and he would have no say in the matter. His bride would only be the best Hell could offer, and yet..._

…_She would never amount to the little bubbly Italian who he was letting drag him to a store to buy bread and spend ultimately asking the shopkeeper which was better for feeding the ducks. He would smile with the shopkeeper when a bread selection was decided, only to hurriedly pay and then hurry to feed the waiting ducks._

_He would smile even more, when he saw the feathery animals form a circle around him. He would feel their beady eyes on him, but he would not go stiff and serious. No, that was in Hell. He was with Feliciano…_

**-xxx-**

**Feliciano…**

Ludwig stirred in his sleep, at the image of a giggling Italian boy dressed as a girl. He remembered this day well. Feliciano was laughing at something happening inside the living room. He remembering going over to see what was so funny…He remembered trying to resist the urge to laugh when he saw Tori was tangled in the new pink yarn he had brought from home.

The poor tabby was ensnared with it, her little paws pulling at string, only to become even more tangled in its grasp. She was mewling and whining, just like a little baby. He remembered coming over and asking if she was alright.

"She's fine," Feliciano said, bending to take the tabby into his arms. "Ve~ She's just a silly, little kitty!" He rubbed his nose against the cat's little pink one, giggling. Ludwig had to smile. It was just so…what's the word? Domestic, was that it?

**-x-**

_The image of Feliciano in an apron, in a normal dress, a dress of simplicity and covered with flour, came to mind. He would be waiting at their home, just for him. Smiling, the Italian would wait for him at the door. It would be mid-afternoon, not the dead of night, when he would retire from his normal job. He would have nothing to do with Hell. He would just be an ordinary man, leaving his ordinary job and coming to his ordinary home…to his extraordinary partner._

"_Ve~ Luddy!" The young male would call, with that little sing-song voice of his. "We have pasta and wurst! Hurry up!" He would smile, and quicken his pace just a bit. But then, he would spot two pairs of eyes appear from behind Feliciano. Two faces would beam from around the open door, and then come rushing owards him._

"_Ve~, vater!" One called, as the other shouted, "Hallo, poppi~" He would smile, and bend to greet the children, he and Feliciano had taken in with open arms. Their children, they would be their shared little angels. A piece of them was in each one of them._

"_Ve~" Feliciano would call, as he ran up to the three on the walk to their little ordinary house's walkway. "I want to join in the hug, too!" Then, it would be the four of them, all of them laughing and smiling. All of them would be normal, nothing of the ordinary. There would be nothing wrong with their family. They would just be an ordinary family._

**A little happy and ordinary family forever…**

**-x-**

**Something he could not have…**

Ice blue eyes opened, as the first rays of morning sun caressed his pale face. It would be a long and terse moment, as the dream finally melted away in his subconscious and naturally erase itself from ever existing.

It would be an even longer moment as Ludwig took the time to think of the past year. Before Feliciano, it had been the dreary centuries of being the perfect Prince and Son of the Royal family of Hell. Before that bubbly being of joy, it had been bleak centuries of doing everything that was expected of him and that nothing that could tarnish the public's image of him. Before he had met the Incarnate of true Happiness, it had been the lonely centuries of never having someone to truly talk to.

He didn't have friends, as the Prince. He was given prospering and/or rising acquaintances and associates to help his image. They were never his friends. They brought things from their travels, when they visited, but he never really looked at them. They weren't even close to being anything called friends.

They acted as if he was already their King. They basically kissed Ludwig feet, to his inwardly disgust, disgust he could not show. There was even one had even taken to suggesting that Ludwig marry one of his daughters. Ludwig could not be any more disgusted. Not, it was not because he had been basically offered a wife so casually, or that he didn't like women, but…He didn't like how it seemed like all of these people were trying too hard to please him.

**It offended him, really.**

Ludwig sighed, raking his hands through his hair, as he sat up. Morning birds chirped, happily, outside his window. It would seem they had chosen today to mock him. He shook his head, sadly, and frowned as he looked down at himself.

No wonder he had felt uncomfortable. Someone must have put him to bed, and hadn't made him change into proper nightclothes. His frown deepened. Well, that could be his fault. It was his decision to stay awake so late, anyway. It was the effect of the decision he had made. He should actually thank whoever had even thought to bring him back to bed. That was kind of them, they didn't have to do it, but they didn't it anyways.

Ludwig nodded to himself, rising from his bed. He walked past his mirror, before he abruptly stopped himself. Wait, he thought suddenly, he thought back to remember what day it was. His face paled in realization. His father was coming home from his house, for the Royal Meeting and Ball…

His face paled further, as he chanced a look outside his window. The sun was growing to be high in the sky. He had woken up late. His throat seemed to close up in fear. He had to be ready by the time his father's carriage arrived. He made a hasty decision at that moment. He was going to do this step by step.

First thing first: He had to bathe. This was probably the easiest of his tasks. But also, it was his most frantic because it was also the first thing he was doing. He scrubbed harshly, and it was almost enough to make his skin redden from the extra force applied. He made sure his face was clear of any signs of a beard. It was for some reason, his father detested beards after his visit to Ancient Rome...

Next, after he felt better about being clean, he had to choose an outfit. He didn't want to look too formal, but he didn't want to wear anything too casual either. His father was the King, and though some people questioned his sanity, he was a very perceptive man. He could sense emotions very well, Roderich said, through how a person acted around him.

Deciding he was wasting too much time on thinking on things, when he could be getting much more progress with improving his situation by dressing, he entered his closet and chose the somewhat casual formal outfit he thought he remembered Roderich giving him a while back. It should still fit. He wasn't as slim as he had been a few centuries ago…

Minutes later, Ludwig was standing in front of his mirror, and adjusting the family emblem of a gold outlined black spread eagle. It was a cream shirt that ended in golden trim at the cuffs. Over that came an olive green vest with black ivory buttons. He had a dark ruffle poking out from the neck of his shirt. He had done a maroon sash over his waist where a pair of dark brown pants fit him well.

Pulling on his black boots, he thought he was nearly ready to appear before his father. He attached a sword, just for decoration rather than an actual planning to use it. He dared himself to look at himself once more in the mirror. He didn't look too bad, did he? He bit his lip, careful of his sharp teeth, and then he sighed and pulled a dark blue coat from his closet. It had the family name sewn over the breast, and its cuffs were pulled back to reveal the dark maroon velvet underneath. A gold button gleamed up at him. He let out a small smile; it was a very nice coat.

He took a deep breath for courage, and prepared himself to leave his room. It was just as he opened his door, he came face to face with his brother. The white haired male grinned, putting his dagger teeth on display. His teeth had always been sharp, but some questioned if they were sharper than normal.

Besides his signature shark grin, Gilbert had let someone— possibly Roderich, he was seemingly the only one besides Ludwig, who could make Gilbert actually do something— convince him to dress up. He was wearing a version of the Royal Guard Defense Captain uniform.

The Captain's uniform started out as a stark white shirt, and then matching slacks. Over the shirt, was a mid-length charcoal vest that was adorned with every one of Gilbert's many military medals and badges. Over that was a white coat with black shoulders and sleeves. It had a long back of solid black that came all the way past Gilbert's back. A golden sash was over his waist, and folded over in view. Attached to the obvious clean fold was Gilbert's own sword.

Golden tassels and snaps clasped onto a thick band of white that looped over Gilbert's shoulder and was adorned with even more medals, but these were his Royal Defense awards, for succeeding over the others in all of the other competitions. He wore his own copy of the family emblem on a leather collar on his neck. He shifted his feet in his black boots, golden chains making a few slight noises.

Gilbert laughed, "Gee, West, I actually woke up before you." His red eyes took on a playful glint, as he continued to tease the other. "Or did you wake up at your usual ungodly hour, but took longer than necessary to pick out your clothes?"

A single eye twitch was the only physical response Ludwig allowed to be shown, before he sighed and said, "Something is off within your head."

"Something is off with your mama's head," Gilbert mocked, making Ludwig look at him, confusion in his blue eyes. Gilbert continued his mocking of the other, smirking all the while, "Because she can't even suck me off right!" He stuck his tongue out and then laughed. Ludwig's face reddened, and he mustered up a glare to give his brother, when Roderich appeared.

The brown haired demon had chosen some of his best from home to dress up as well. A pressed light mint green shirt started his outfit off, and it was tucked into white pants. Over his shirt was a neat forest green vest, and a peach colored rose sat in its breast pocket. A cream colored ruffle stood out at his neck. Ludwig inwardly thought if it was a signature decoration of Roderich. As it seemed, he always seemed to wear it.

He had chosen to thrown on a dark green coat, similar to Ludwig's. Except, where it was red velvet, Roderich had cream white silk. His buttons were black, whereas Ludwig had gold. His brown boots clacked precisely and smartly under him.

"There you are," Roderich began, clamping a firm hand on Gilbert's shoulder, "Can't you wait for me to do a few simple tasks?" Said person immediately went silent, save for a faux cough to clear his throat. Roderich raised a brow at the white-haired male, and then rolled his eyes. "You are a strange one, Gilbert. I think we fed you some bad blood…"

"Hey!" Gilbert cried, and Ludwig nearly looked smug. Roderich smiled gently, eyes knowing, as he turned on his heel. "Yes, yes, the baby is mad. Can we continue this little tantrum some time later?" The brown haired demon crossed his arms. "Your father will be here any minute, and I want you both on only your best behavior."

Ludwig gulped silently, as more fear wove into his blood. But Gilbert had the opposite reaction, as he whined, "Rodi! Why do you always call me out, man? I haven't even done anything yet!"

Roderich stared at him, with a level and flat look. "The last time I told you to be on your best behavior, you asked your father where did babies come from…"

"I was only, like, nine!" Gilbert retorted, face coloring a bit. "I was curious!" Roderich eyed him again, eyebrow twitching, then he said, "And don't forget that you clung to his leg like a silly child and kept begging him to let ride you his horse."

Gilbert's face warmed even more. He huffed, as he puffed out his chest, indignantly, "Again, I say I was little. I know better now…"

"When, you were about twelve," Roderich said, flatly, pinching the bridge of his nose, "You asked him when was the last time he had a 'good fuck' as you said, because he looked a bit upset."

Gilbert threw up his arms, face expressing his determination to win. "Hey! We all saw he looked like he hadn't been getting any in a while!" Ludwig sighed, as Roderich shook his head sadly. Gilbert continued, despite them, "At least, I had the balls to actually say it!"

Ludwig said, calmly, "Brother…" Gilbert turned to him, face calm as if nothing had happened. As if the white haired male had not just tried to explain his brash encounters with his father. "Hm?" Gilbert asked.

"Please," Ludwig said, as he put a hand on his older brother's shoulder, "At least _try_ to behave yourself…" Gilbert smirked, and Ludwig knew the night was going to end with embarrassment on his and Roderich's part.

"Got it, man," Gilbert said, "I'll be like that one kid in school." Roderich looked up, from his hands, "The strange Danish boy?" Gilbert shook his head, and then grinned, "Nope! That Alfred kid, he was pretty cool for a little punk!" Roderich's face fell, and Ludwig felt a groan come through his lips unconsciously.

"Oh come on, guys," Gilbert said, as he put an arm over each of the other demon's shoulders. H was lucky they didn't throw him off. "I can be polite and have manners and shit like that," Gilbert said, ignoring Roderich's mumbled plea for him to mind his language around his father. "I just don't want to! Politeness is for un-awesome people!" He had his hands on his hips, as he laughed loudly.

"Brother," Ludwig began, "Remind me to throttle you once father leaves." Gilbert laughed, and then realized that the other was looking at him with a serious face. His mood sobered quickly, and his eyes widened, he asked, "Are you serious?"

Ludwig put a hand to his hip, where the sword was, and said flatly, "As serious as Judgment Day." Gilbert blinked, and then frowned as he turned to Roderich. He snapped at the brown haired demon, "It's your fault he has a stick up his ass, now. He could've been cool like me."

"Gilbert," Roderich sighed, as he came forward. He patted the other's head. "You're lucky I love you enough not to throw you out the window, every time you open your mouth." Ludwig snickered, as Gilbert made a look similar to that of a kicked puppy.

"You're such a dick, Rodi," he said, "Do you know that?"

Roderich smirked, "I may be a dick, as you so eloquently put it, but you're still a childish asshole." Ludwig's snickers increased in volume, as Gilbert blinked at the other's remark. Then, to save face, he grinned and clapped the other on the back harshly. "What do you know? Roderich can make a comeback!"

Roderich rolled his eyes, as he gestured for the boys to follow him down the hall. "Yes, yes, I've hung around you far too much, Gilbert. Now, please, no more delays, and please, behave yourself…" A pointed look was given to Gilbert, who smiled innocently and walked on.

Roderich continued, as he turned to Ludwig. At least, the younger would act as if he was paying attention, if nothing else." Ludwig nodded, but Gilbert hummed to himself to some song he had heard in the human world.

They made it downstairs, and all three stood in front of the aligned servants already present. They all held their breaths, as they heard the neigh of the horses outside. There was the sound of a door opening, people taking the carriage and horses away. There was the sound of people coming up the stone steps and some few hushed words.

**Then, the door opened…**

A tall man, walked through, his long blonde hair swinging slightly in the shift of air. His pale eyes blinked, as his solemn face faced the entry hall. His pale face went over the room, before his gaze locked on his two children and their nanny and teacher, Roderich.

His face almost seemed to break into a smile, and Gilbert was the first one to speak. "Hallo, old man!" Ludwig's eye twitched, as Roderich made a choking sound in his throat. Ludwig tried to make up fro it, "Hallo, vater, it is good to see you again."

Their father, Germania, as he called, spoke in affirm baritone, "Ja, it has been a while." He finally let a small smirk slip, "Show me how much you missed me."

Gilbert strode forward, sword immediately bared, Ludwig following in his steps. They broke into a run, Gilbert grinning and Ludwig allowing a small smile. They ran at their father, and no one stopped them. It looked like each son was going to strike their father at both sides, when said man grinned. Pale eyes flashed, and he suddenly crushed each boy to his chest, laughing. "You're both still too slow. I'm not too old, just yet."

The servants clapped, as the small family laughed amongst themselves. But the happy family moment was immediately broken, when a small noise was made when a small woman finally came through the door. Father and sons broke apart as the young males looked at the young woman who had come in. She was slim, and had honey blonde hair that fell to her shoulders.

Her green eyes said she was happy, despite her calm face. She wore a light green dress with white gloves and matching shoes. Her dress was elaborate with its white ruffles, and the waves in her hair accented her face. She smiled, her slight accent making a lisp with her fangs. "Hello there," she greeted, sweetly.

Germania turned, and acknowledged her presence. The girl put her hands in front of her. Gilbert beat Ludwig to the question. "Old man," Gilbert asked slowly, "Who's the chick?"

Germania smiled and pushed the boys a good distance from him. "I'm glad you asked, Gilbert," he said. He turned to Ludwig, "Ludwig, mein sohn, this is Alice." He gestured formally to the girl behind them, and she did a small curtsy, as she smiled brightly at Ludwig.

But said German could feel his heart cracking in his chest, as his father finished, "As my heir, she is the bride I have chosen for you." Ludwig's eyes widened. "She is going to be your wife."

Gilbert looked at Ludwig, right before the pale silverfish light seemed to die in the younger's eyes. Then, his face went calm, his eyes darker, as his father pushed Ludwig towards Alice and asked that everyone gave the two some time alone to get to know each other.

Roderich and Gilbert were the last to leave, Gilbert barely holding back from swearing and Roderich barely stopping himself from saying something terrible when it wasn't his place. Germania had no idea of the damage he had just caused.

The cherry on the top of the cake, was when Alice took Ludwig's hands and beamed, "I can't wait to get married, Ludwig. I just know we're going to be happy together!"

But all Ludwig could hear was the distant sobs of Feliciano in his mind.

**Feliciano was crying, "Luddy…Help me, I'm scared…"**

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

*hides in bunker* Please don't kill me!

I told you guys that there were going to be some sad parts! Don't kill me! DX

Oh, yes, can you guys vote on my poll? It's on my profile, and it would mean so much to me! There's a GerIta story already there, but if you have any suggestions, then feel free to PM me for your suggestion to be a choice on the board. :D

**Quick question**: Do you guys want smut in this story? :/ I had one smut occurrence in mind, but if people are against it, then this fict will remain T unless something happens to change it.

Um, I think that's it…for now, anyways.

**READ AND ****REVIEW!**


	7. Missing You

**Hell's Tango**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** AU The young male was often seen in one of the girls' dresses, singing atop a piano. That's how he found him. He was beautiful; pure, ripe for the taking. However, he couldn't bring himself to silence that pretty voice…Demon!GermanyxFlapper!Italy

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

* * *

Author Alert: JKProductions, CrimsonRegret478, Medea Gorgon, Lady-Pyrien (holy shit), 24gamefreak

Story alert/ Favorites: ** CrimsonRegret478, Kisa2012, Animaegan, grass-grows-everywhere, Medea Gorgon, Pasta kitty, The Truly Awesome One, SapphireDemonKiki, Sam King, Anamique4, BlueRavenQuill, miggieBRO, The Truly Awesome One, Nekogirl813, TomatoLullaby31, ChildofStorms, 24gamefreak**

Reviewer(s)!: **JKProductions, CrimsonRegret478, Animaegan, silver Alida, xXBlackieChanXx (2), Medea Gorgon, Lady-Pyrien, Prussian Sinister, The Truly Awesome One, ForTheLoveOfGermany, Moongirl12121, Sam King, ItalysWifeMab, Frenchkiss639**

JKProductions: That's one hand for smut, and thanks for the P.S pointer! :D

CrimsonRegret478: It's YOU! I love your Midnight Dancers story! Antonio is adorable! :'D I'm so lad you like my story! I hope to see you again real soon!

Animaegan: Oh, don't worry, I'm not going anywhere. I am going to keep this story. It's fun for me to write, and this setting and plot test my writing skills to deliver a good chapter and finale.

silver Alida: Hearts break all the time, love, just imagine Ludwig's right now…Poor guy, he just wants an ordinary life with Feliciano, but his dreams are crushed with the reality of his standing within the Crown. That's sad…

Gilbert is a troublemaker, and Roderich just loves to bring up the other's past antics to prove his point. Plus it's funny to think of Gilbert doing these things to Germania. (I'll try my best to get the update before next month. And one more hand is for smut.)

xXBlackieChanXx: I love "Auf Widersehen, Sweetheart". It really touched me; I'm still early in the story, barely at 10 chapters. Don't worry, I don't like pointless smut, it will be meaningful.

grass-grows-everywhere:…if it does, why is Mars red? (Just messing with you, your username is funny to me. :P)

Medea Gorgon: Good to see you again, Italia! Alice is Belgium, by the way, and I advise you to use some holy water on your blade. *wink wink* I like writing Ludwig's feeling last chapter, and thank you for the P.S explanation.

Lady-Pyrien: LOL, that's one more hand for smut! XD Don't you worry about Ludwig, I'll help him as best I can. But this story gets darker and sadder from here.

Prussian Sinister: …LOL, I'm glad you found their outfits attractive. I'll be sure to tell them you thought so. Prussia will be Prussia, no matter what universe. That's not awkward, that's an I-want –to-kick-your-ass-so-badly-for-doing-this-to-me moment. :P (One hand down for smut.)

The Truly Awesome One: You know the fellowship of the Ring? …Marry me. I'm serious; I would love to marry another fan. No one at the school ever seems to know what the Hell I'm talking about when I talk about Legolas. I would throw myself at his feet, if he was real…I'll settle for Orlando's poster…*sigh*

Okay, you don't want smut, so I can— Wait, what do onions have to do with this? I admit they're good in food, but opinions don't burn my eyes. LOL, moving on, I'm so glad you enjoy my story. It means a lot. I'm glad you like how the plot evokes emotion. You think Ludwig snickering is funny too? Join the club, no seriously, join us. I'm glad you worry for our beloved Feliciano and Ludwig. (But…what numbers?)

ForTheLoveOfGermany: Unfortunately, I cannot say right now, as that give away some of my plot…and what are you confused on?

Moongirl12121: …It took me a minute to find a translator to find that was Swedish. I do not known Swedish…LOL. But um, I promise to make everything better! No wait, let me stop lying, but I will take you down as a smut-wanted.

Sam King: Why thank you for saying so. I'm glad to hear my story doesn't really need it. I'll put you down as 'you don't think it's necessary, but it is alright to have.'

ItalysWifeMab: *holds up hands in surrender* Nein! I was just asking for majority vote! I was just asking! Please don't kill me! D8 I'm glad you liked Ludwig's inner musing. Oh good, you're going to go kill Alice. Go right ahead, other people would love to join you. *reads rest of review* …LOL. Suck it, loser! *points to Alice* I can see that you're passionate, hun. France would be proud.

Frenchkiss639: I'm glad you love it, hun. I love writing it. I hope you enjoy this update.

The Truly Awesome One: Gilbert…what did Germany tell you about reading my stories for blackmail? -w-

littlewolfwindspeaker: Everyone wants to kill Belgium…Ha ha! One more vote for smut.

Gah, school is worrying me bald, guys. Not really, Gott, I hope not. But I've been so busy with school that I've rarely been on the computer. I've been on my phone, replying to messages whenever I could feel my fingers, and trying to type this and my other story up.

Ugh, and I have the tally. Smut: Some fucking number that says I have to write it, versus "IDC" which I actually voted for. So this means we will have smut, but it will not be PWP. (Porn without Plot). It will be like "Auf Wiedersehen, Sweetheart" by George deValier. IT WILL HAVE A FUCKING POINT, NOT JUST A FUCK, GOD DAMNIT.

Oh yeah, and **Alice is actually supposed to be Belgium.** Yeah…if you guys still want to kill her, be my guest, just bring back some of her chocolate for me.

Ugh, danke for listening to my mini rant, you are excused to go on and read your long-awaited chapter. Tell your friends and have them review and subscribe, okay? I'm an attention whore.

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**Recommended Listening: **"And Counting" by LIGHTS

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**.:Chapter Seven:.**

_Missing You_

_**[Feliciano]**_

It was over a dark velvet stretch of sky, that covering the expanse of the heavens were the pretty dots and clusters of stars, all of them varying in size and brightness. Not that Feliciano would notice. The lithe Italian was staring out of the safety of his dining room window at the moment. Amber eyes looked up at the nightly spectacle and thought warmly at the thought that maybe, just maybe, someone was doing the same thing across the world.

Or in his case, unbeknownst to him, from under his world and looking up to a different sun altogether.

Feliciano sighed softly, his hands stilling on the pan he had been washing prior. The house felt so empty without Ludwig's presence now…Sure, he had his fratello and grandfather here, but they said they were going to go chat up the locals. Feliciano had offered to come along, but Romano had jumped in to say that someone had to watch the cat to make sure she remained alright.

Although Feliciano had left his cat along at home, often, he had obeyed. He tried to console himself with the thought that maybe Ludwig would be able to come that day, err night, so they could be together once more. Feliciano missed him; thus the pretty ring on his finger felt heavier with each passing moment that the Italian looked at it and wondered if something had happened between then and now.

He could only hope not. He loved Ludwig, he knew he did. He was nearly ready to confess to him, though he was a little late in doing so, and tell the German he was actually a male. Ludwig wouldn't see him differently, right? He remembered the proposal well, so very well, and he knew he couldn't have imagined the warmth in those ice-blue eyes. No one could fake a love that deep or pure, he knew it.

He just hoped that the love wouldn't suffer when Ludwig found out the truth. He wouldn't be able to take it. If Ludwig left now, Feliciano couldn't guarantee anything but that he would be as miserable as his heart felt like it was being crushed as his world ended.

Sun-kissed and slim hands stilled once more and ruby lips pressed into as thin line as they could muster. Then, said lips began to tremble, and a small sound escaped through a small opening in his mouth. A plate clattered to the interior of the sink with a resounding crash, but amber eyes were already welling and close to spilling tears.

An image of Ludwig entered Feliciano's mind. It was one of the few images of the German actually smiling. Feliciano remembered it as that one rainy day, when he had almost slipped in a puddle, and before the wet sidewalk could even dream of touching his back, he was being held close.

An umbrella was still keeping him dry, albeit one of Ludwig's shoulders was getting to know the rain better since the umbrella was leaned more in favor of Feliciano. Said Italian blinked up at the person holding him, seeing none other than Ludwig smiling gently at him.

"Watch your step, Feli," Suck kind words were said. "I don't think the sidewalk is very friendly to people who slip and fall on it." Feliciano remembered laughing, a twinkling chime in the dark night and drawing a few other smiles from the others walking along the road. But they didn't matter. All that mattered, all that Feliciano could see or even remotely think about: was the fact that Ludwig was smiling at him.

Feliciano sucked in a breath to his lungs, and just held the edge of the counter for a moment. Time passes slowly, inching along like a snail, as anxiety and worry ate away at the poor little Italian. Tri, his tabby, interrupted his inner musing, with a purr, as she wove herself around his booted foot. He looked down, and amber eyes met blue.

Feliciano blinked, and Teri's once blue eyes went back to their normal grey shade. She meowed at him, and Feliciano blinked again, as he took a moment to rub one eye, thinking he was suffering from a lack of sleep. Even though he knew he wasn't. Every one of his siestas was being met and taken care of.

Feliciano sighed, taking the little tabby in his arms, as he left the kitchen. It was only one dish left, anyways. It could wait another day…if it wasn't broken from its fall.

Going over to the balcony, Feliciano smiled, as he walked over to the ledge. Teri mewled in his arms, happily, as if remembering the happy memories that had taken place on the balcony as well. Feliciano stopped, as he came to the edge, and opened the door. There was a little resistance, and the Italian looked up to see that the rose vine had stretched over it again.

Feliciano blinked, and then his face gave a soft and warm smile. Ludwig had started by playing it in a pot by the wall, and even though, the German keep saying that the rose was nothing special, just a normal red rose plant, Feliciano knew otherwise.

Normal red roses didn't seem to glow from within, and give off that sweet smell. Starting from its vines, which were a dark green, the long strands shone life in vibrant dances when the wind was just right. They would sashay and wave their fat and ridged leaves. Their thorns never pierced Feliciano's skin; despite how many times the Italian would reach out blindly and take a rose into his hands, he was never harmed.

But the roses were the best part of the plant of all, besides its growth, as it was where the eye was most attracted to and held. Carmine buds, with little green leaves covering all but their heads, alternated with blood red blossoms. Their beautiful color was further brought out by the earlier rainfall. The last remaining drops of moisture made the red stand out, as the water glittered and shone in the dark of the night.

Feliciano looked at the flowers, how they crawled over the brick space of his apartment wall, and just smiled. It was so pretty, and the vines grew accordingly, save for the few on the door, and never failed to make Feliciano smile.

—**xXx—**

"_Ve~ Luddy?" Feliciano pounced at said German's open back. "What are you doing with my flower pot?" Ludwig smiled gently, and held up his dirt-covered gloves, "I am trying my hand at gardening." Feliciano's eyes widened, and brightened as he exclaimed, "Really? That's amazing, Luddy!" _

_Ludwig smiled, "Danke, thank you, Feliciano." He turned back to the little pot of dark soil and the light-colored seeds on top. "Hopefully, it won't die on me…" Feliciano giggled, drawing back Ludwig's attention. _

_Feliciano smiled, his eyes warm as the very sun, as he said, "I'm sure you'll do wonderfully, Ludwig." To hear such a compliment and encouragement, when he had barely even started, made Ludwig's face warm. His heart picked up slightly, as he turned away and mumbled his thanks._

_Teri mewled as she entered behind Feliciano, and pawed her way so she could sit beside Ludwig and nuzzle the pot. Feliciano giggled, as he clapped his gloved hands, and said, "See? Even Teri thinks it will turn out wonderfully! See! See!"_

_Ludwig looked down at the cat, and smiled again. He took off his glove, and then he rubbed between her little ears. "Good kitty," he whispered, and then he heard the cat purr. Then came another giggle, as a familiar voice cried out, "Me too! I'm a kitty, too!"_

_One bubbly Italian in a jade ivy-pattern dress had jumped into his lap. Even though, he had to wince, he his arms found their way to slim hips, and Ludwig had to laugh at that, Teri standing on her hind legs to crawl her way into the middle of them. The little tabby mewled, as she purred against Ludwig._

_Feliciano smiled at Ludwig, and his love smiled back. They were like that for a while, Feliciano saying he didn't mind getting his gloves dirty if it meant he could help Ludwig as they all tried to help the planting process._

**It was yet another treasured night in Feliciano's memories.**

—**xXx—**

Teri mewled in his arms, and he let out a soft sigh. A small song began to play in his mind, and before his golden eyes could even mist and tear, the words came forth. "Forty days, and counting," he sang softly. His accent tilted the words slightly, but did nothing but make the words even more beautiful. The wind chose that moment to stir amongst his hair. His braid gently lifted, and then thumped softly on his shoulder.

His eyes traveled down to his cat, and Teri thumped her head against his head, as if urging him to continue the song. Feliciano began again softly, thus time giving a bit more vibrancy behind his voice, as if he could see that he had an audience. The audience he had always wanted.

"Forty days, and counting," the Italian sang, the wind whistling past him and stirring his hair again. It was almost like a caress, in a way. Taking it, in his mind, as a sign of approval, Feliciano kept on. "I'm going to sleep."

The young Italian could almost see Ludwig standing in the doorway, trying to surprise him, and seeing him outside. The mental image made him smile. "When I wake up," Feliciano sang. "There will be only thirty nine more days left…"

_Just like with Luddy_, he thought. _I just have to be patient, and wait for him to come like I know he will. _He told himself that, and it made him feel better. He began singing again, to Teri's enjoyment. "When I fall asleep," Feliciano sang, his hands slowly petting Teri's soft fur, "I feel you here with me…"

"When I fall asleep, I feel you with me," he repeated, as his mind drifted again. "When I fall asleep, I feel you with me…"

—**xXx—**

"_Luddy~" Feliciano sang, as he came through the kitchen walkway. He was holding a small, typical for pasta, and a wooden spoon. "What do you want for dinner?"_

_Said German looked up from holding a ball of white yarn above Teri's head, his hand motions stilling and allowing said pet cat to latch on and nuzzle her face into it repeatedly. Ice blue eyes met amber, and Feliciano's heart stammered._

"_Hm," Ludwig murmured to himself. "I think I'm in the mind of desiring Italian food." At Feliciano's continued look for more information, he said, "I believe that chicken parmesan would be delicious, tonight." Feliciano smiled, as he went back to the kitchen._

"_Well," Feliciano called from the kitchen, as he collected pans and ingredients. He poked his head out, and asked, "Are you coming?" Ludwig blinked, and then a small blush crept on his face. Feliciano giggled, as he saw how Ludwig's face hardened in determination as he rolled up his sleeves. _

_Minutes later, Feliciano was laughing at a flour covered face full of Ludwig. The German had tried to open up the bag, and used too much force, and thus the bag's contents went everywhere. Even, Teri was blinking the white from her eyes, right before the poor kitten tried frantically to clean her fur of the white substance covering all of her fur. _

_Ludwig blushed under the white flour. "My apologies…" He mumbled, as he lowered the broken bag, "I think there's still some flour in the bag…" Feliciano smiled, as he patted Ludwig's shoulder. "Ve~ It's alright, I have a few more bags." _

_At that response, Ludwig looked up, albeit his face told that he was a bit skeptical of being forgiven so easily. Feliciano tried to cheer him up, "I do this every other week! I even know tricks to get the flour off quicker!"_

_Ludwig blinked, and then slowly a laugh bubbled up from within his throat, before he was outright laughing. He had put the broken bag on the counter, and Feliciano had taken the risk to hug him while the German was laughing. _

_The Italian was taken for a moment of shock, when he was pulled close – rather than pushed away. He blinked it away, quickly, however. He smiled, giggling with Ludwig, as the taller spun them in messy circles around the flour coated kitchen. _

"_Ve, What a wonderful winter wonderland~" Feliciano teased, and Ludwig nodded, "The snow tastes funny tonight." Their laughter chimed through the air, Teri pausing in her cleaning to look at them. The cat seemed to smile, her tail swishing slowly, as a knowing look seemed to come across her eyes. It was if the small feline could see how happy the couple was with the other. _

**Feliciano had made it a point to beg Ludwig to cook with him ever since.**

—**xXx—**

"When I feel asleep," Feliciano sang softly, the wind adding in his voice and giving it an idyllic charm, "Until I fall asleep and you are with me." Teri was mewling softly, and her head was rubbing affectionately down and up Feliciano's arms. "Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh," Feliciano sang softly, his voice carrying over the wind and being drifted down to the varying passerby walking down on the streets below.

A small pause came, as people began to stop to listen below. A couple sitting at a table outside, paused in their conversation, and looked up. The girl smiled, and the man nodded. People slowly stopped their conversations, in favor of listening to Feliciano sing above.

"Thirty days," Feliciano crooned, "And counting…" His head moved slightly, and allowing the wind greater access to his hair to lift and play with his hair. People were openly staring now, looking up at the beautiful figure known as Feliciano, and being mesmerized by his angelic voice and sweet and loving words.

"I'm going to sleep," Feliciano sang, as his eyes warmed at the thought of a sublime life where he was crawling into bed, beside Ludwig. The German would have been waiting for him, probably wearing a pair of reading glasses and reading some old and thick book that Feliciano could never hope to finish before he turned a century old. Ludwig would be halfway through and looking very interestedly at the miniscule words on the yellowed pages.

—**xXx—**

"_Ve, what is it like at your house, Luddy?" Feliciano asked once, while they were eating dinner. Ludwig looked up from a pasta twirled fork. Romano narrowed his eyes, wiping his mouth hurriedly, and snapping, "What the Hell? You don't know that already?"_

_Feliciano's face blushed a bit, and Romulus frowned. Ludwig had put down his fork, and his facial expression looked serious. He always turned serious at the mention of his home away from Feliciano. "Well, not really," Feliciano tried to explain to his brother. "Ludwig doesn't talk much of his home."_

_Romano frowned, and then turned on Ludwig, who didn't do anything at Romano's fierce glare. "So why don't you talk about home, you potato bastard?" He snapped, and Romulus interjected with, "I'm curious too. What do you do at home?"_

_Ludwig was quiet for a second, and his eyes were unseeing. Then he said slowly, but with a tone of finality, "I don't like speaking of home, when I am happy with this one." Ludwig didn't say anything more, and Feliciano didn't pressure him further. Romano seemed at a lost for a retort, and Romulus caught the silence and tried to make for a happier conversation._

"_So tell me, Feli?" He began, going for a random memory, "Have you been still been singing?" Feliciano nodded happily, glad for the change of subject, "Si, yes, I have. Ve, it's how I met Ludwig actually!"_

_Romano blinked, and then rounded on Ludwig, "You asshole! You only love h—"A sound kick under the table, and Romano caught his sentence being cut off. Romulus smiled, Feliciano smiled, and Ludwig just wondered if somehow he had wondered into a family stranger than his._

**Feliciano silently thanked his grandfather for saving him.**

—**xXx—**

"When I wake up," Feliciano crooned, and it almost sounded as if he was trying to tell himself. The next words coming smoothly from him, as he said, "There will be twenty nine more days left…"

A soft sigh came from him, as he said, "When I fall asleep, I feel you with me." Teri was now nestling off to sleep, and the crowd below was near silent. They were all trying to listen to the beautiful voice above, now even knowing who was really singing. All they knew was that it was coming from above them, and it sounded like a beautiful angel.

"When I fall asleep," Feliciano sang, "I feel you with me." He was smiling, as a memory came out from within his thoughts, as he finished a lyric. "When I fall asleep, I feel you with me."

"Until I fall asleep," Feliciano continued, as Teri mowed in his arms. He gently scratched the kitten's head, eliciting a purr, as he finished, "And you are with me."

The song built up again, as Feliciano started to lean against the ledge of his balcony, the stone barely digging into his hip. He was wearing a more casual dress, just a simple black pleated skirt and a red bosom shirt. A white ribbon was tied around his collar.

"When I fall asleep," he sang, starting to sway on his feet, in the imaginary music, "I feel you with me." His smile seemed to act against the stars, and challenge their glamour as his face lit up. "When I fall asleep, I feel you with me."

A slow blink, as Feliciano closed his eyes, and let the wind kiss his cheeks. It wasn't very cold outside, but it was cooler than lukewarm. "When I fall asleep," he said, as he opened his eyes again, "I feel you with me…"

—**xXx—**

_Feliciano let out a semi-loud sigh of relief, as he came upon his home. Work was so unfair. He had to stand up, and then he had to dance, and some man had gotten the wrong idea and tried to kiss his hand. It had taken everything in him not to spit in the man's face or, at the very least, put on a face of disgust._

_Feliciano could only smile and giggle, flirt a bit and try to give a discreet hint to the man to not do that again or that his wife might find out. That had sure earned a laugh from the crowd. Feliciano didn't know whether to feel ill about how indifferent these men felt towards infidelity or puzzled that the men thought he would be the one they cheated with…_

_As if Feliciano would ever betray Ludwig like that. He wasn't a whore. He just sang and danced. That's what he was paid to do, why if he didn't need this job—_

_Feliciano had to stop himself, before his thoughts could show while he was at work, but the moment he clocked out, he made a little chat with the other fellow girls and then left. He didn't feel like hanging around the club he worked at more than he had to._

_It was as he came into the house, that he heard Teri's loud meow, followed closely by Ludwig shushing the cat. Feliciano tried to be quiet, not wanting to disrupt whatever was going on, although he had a feeling that Ludwig already knew he was there. Or at least, that he was coming home sometime in the hour._

_He walked inside, setting aside his things, and came upon an interesting surprise in the kitchen. Ludwig: sleeves rolled up and face boasting a small amount of sweat and concentration, a dollop of frosting on his cheek. Teri: mewling as she looked at the bowl of cream-colored edible paste in front of her._

_She pawed at it, and Ludwig gave her a look. "Nein," he whispered, "Not for you. This is for Feli, not for kittens." Feliciano really hadn't meant to blurt it, but the words came fast. He always did have a thing for saying things at the moment._

"_What's for me?" Ludwig spun; face suddenly serious behind the blush slowly gaining territory on his face. "Just a cake," he explained, "nothing really special. I…" Feliciano didn't really give him a chance to finish, as he crossed the space between them, and kissed the frosting-spotted cheek._

_Ludwig blushed harder, Teri mewled, and Feliciano giggled. "You didn't have to bake a cake for me." The Italian looked down at the small baked good. It was chocolate, and very pleasing to the eyes. A small bowl of different colored berries caught his eye, and Ludwig caught the shift of his eyes, and pushed it away with his finger. _

_He was smiling, though, as he said, "Nein, no, you cannot eat the berries. They are for the cake." Feliciano giggled, and Ludwig spared a moment to do the same. Teri continued to bat her paw for the frosting._

**There was nothing quite like coming home to a familiar face.**

—**xXx—**

"Until I fall asleep," Feliciano sang, Teri nodding in his arms, falling asleep to his sweet words, "And you are with me." Feliciano chose a smaller pause, and then whispered into the night, "Ooh, ooh, ooh, oh."

He was finally finishing his song, when a soft applause began below. He was about to respond to it, when he heard his door jingle and then the click of the lock being given a key. Feliciano's heart held. A moment later, it soared through his chest as a familiar pale face appeared.

"Feliciano," Ludwig greeted, and then the other frowned. "What have I told you about waiting in the cold, there's a perfectly good loveseat in the living room." Feliciano had only heard the beginning, where he heard his name fall off with ease, that he had all but squealed and launched himself at the object of his desire and affections.

Ludwig grunted, at the predicted surprise attack, glad he hadn't fallen. He had seen a broken dish in the sink, and had thought the worst. But luckily, his fears were baseless. Feliciano had probably had an accident, and put it there. It probably didn't matter.

He looked down at the small figure still attempting to hold him for dear life. He had begun to pet the neat bun in Feliciano hair, when said little Italian in his arms spoke, "I missed you…"

Ludwig blinked, and pulled Feliciano away, to lift his chin and look at the face. "What?" He asked, and Feliciano bit his lip. Then his amber eyes hardened in determination, and he repeated himself, "I said I missed you, Ludwig…"

Ludwig had a moment of silence, as a small smile crept up to his face. He took the Italian back into his arms, and placed his head atop his head. Settling for whispering by Feliciano's ear, "I missed you too..."

Feliciano held him tighter, a small smile coming across his face. He wouldn't think of those awful things now. Luddy was here now. He didn't need to think about…

Wait…Ludwig was trying to hold his hand. Did he want to dance? No, he was rubbing his finger against Feliciano's engagement ring. A warm feeling started to spread in Feliciano, and he was already feeling content in the sensation in his chest, when Ludwig asked, "Feliciano, I have something to ask you…"

Feliciano looked up, completely ready to answer, until the very question fell of Ludwig's lips:

"**Are you hiding something from me?"**

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

**DISCLAMIER**: No. I do not own LIGHTS, or her song "And Counting" although it is beautiful and her 'Siberia' album. (Promotion, hint hint, get off your ass and listen to it. There are some really great tracks on it.

*holding remote controller* …This chapter was actually done a few days ago, and I thought it was posted, but FFnet didn't actually post it.

I didn't notice this, until I was checking my email, and I was like: "Damn, does no one even WANT to read it anymore?" I was right about to cry, until I checked my views and found I still only had 6 chapters…I was like: "Oh, it didn't update…That makes sense."

So, did this chapter meet expectations again? I noticed last chapter had my highest review count. 18. Eight-motherfucking-teen! I love you guys!

**Smut Answer**: One scene. I'll give warnings and page breaks, so you can skip over it, if you so choose. I can't guarantee it will be the best, or anything like George deValier…That man is amazing~

Anyways: For anyone on this story reading "My Friend, For Eternity", there was a slight problem with my doc manager, so the update is later than I had originally planned.

I only have a few more days before school starts again, so…yeah. But within the first week, I should be able to still write, unless something comes up. However, I will still be mostly inactive. My PMs might be late, and honestly, I might only update on weekends, when I am finally within my right mind and rested.

I will never forget you guys, promise!

**READ AND ****REVIEW!**


	8. Love Me

**Hell's Tango**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** AU The young male was often seen in one of the girls' dresses, singing atop a piano. That's how he found him. He was beautiful; pure, ripe for the taking. However, he couldn't bring himself to silence that pretty voice…Demon!GermanyxFlapper!Italy

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

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Author Alert: X-x-Kag-Xion-Uchiha-x-X

Story alert/ Favorites: **Kichou, summer164, wasabi cake, X-x-Kag-Xion-Uchiha-x-X, TarrelYoukai, 0X0PaNdA HeRo0X0, whitealmond, VengefulMothSlayer, Tragically Hopeless, Son-Of-Beyond-And-Blood, lilalovex, KittyKat2583**

Reviewer(s)!: **Kichou, AlwaysTomorrow, Animaegan, nadzuke eno mono, ItalysWifeMab, Lady-Pyrien, Prussian Sinister, HetaliaHeart, ashley12chan, littlewolfwindspeaker, whitealmond(7), TomatoLullaby31, wasabi cake, VengefulMothSlayer, Moongirl12121, Guest, lilalovex, Gaby Elric, KittyKat2583**

Kichou: Thank you for saying so in a review, hun! I will try my best. :)

AlwaysTomorrow: Oh my Gosh! I will try my best to get the next chapter out before it's a month late. (I almost failed there…*sobbing*)

Animaegan: Contradicting, isn't he? And danke for saying so~

nadzuke eno mono: Hold your nose, and yes, wish Feli luck! (He'll need it…)

ItalysWifeMab: Wow, that was a long review, and I LOVED it. Good luck with Belgium, and sorry about the time workings. I'm glad I drew out the OTP feels in you~ :3 And yes, Ludwig needs a good knock on the noggin, eh? LOL, Ludwig is such a card, right? *sarcasm* There might be some tears, dear, maybe~ But smut, yes, there is.

Lady-Pyrien: I am glad you love the sweet fluff, and have no fear! Feli shall prevail in here! (Hey, that rhymed! :D) Here is the new update~ ((Thank you for the smut aide! It is much appreciated.))

Prussian Sinister: Hurrah! I have such devoted stalkers here~ And pft, don't worry about that procrastination. Just remember to get it done eventually, okay? And yes, you will find out about the revelation of Feli's gender. And dear…where do you think I got the picture?

I don't know that gigantic Hershey kiss…My parents might be a little suspicious if I try to fit a car-sized piece of chocolate into our mailbox…*shifty eyes*

HetaliaHeart: I'm so glad it was! I do hope you're patient with me, and I'm glad you're still reading from me despite my time lapses. ^^'

ashley12chan: *cue Austrian piano music* Yes, ja, it is THE chapter, and the revelation! I'm so glad that you're one of the many, as you said, that didn't totally forget about me! Danke for the compliment and devotion, it motivated me to get off my ass and write despite how I messed up my hand. ^^' You're wonderful. (If it's not English, then what is it, if you don't mind my asking.)

littlewolfwindspeaker: Isn't pointless worry fun? ;D (Feli doesn't know that Rodi told Ludwig.)

whitealmond: I'm so glad to hear that you are enjoying this story!

The Truly Awesome One: I shall see you there, mein freund. And you are a lucky bastard. But enjoy it while you still can! (That was probably my AutoCorrect's way of trying to correct me. The little shit.) YES RUN, PRUSSIA. I'M TELLING WEST GERMANY.

TomatoLullaby31: I'm so glad you enjoy it so! I think so, too: Romano FALCON KICK.

wasabi cake: What have I told you guys about going through my computer? STAY OUT. Alice is going to make another appearance. She plays a part later. I'm so glad you enjoy my story, and that you await my next updates. Danke! :D

VengefulMothSlayer: Are you saying you want more? *suggestive look* Why, thank you for the invitation. I don't like PWP. But if you and the others want more smut, than so be it. I love my lemons; I just didn't know how the masses would react to lemons and sudden M-rating. I'm glad you think so. ^.^ I'm glad you await my updates. (As I said above, Alice is coming soon again. Prepare yourself.)

I'm glad you enjoy it, and hope to see you again soon on the next update.

Moongirl12121: (HOOOOLY SHIIIIIT. YOU'RE BAAAACK! :D)I'm glad you like the sweet and fluffy memories, and don't laugh too loud. Romano might hear us. You don't want him after us. It's been near a year. :O Yes, Feli does have to tell, but he's afraid. Even though, Luddy already knows…-_-

Guest: It's too easy to imagine her doing it, isn't it? (Hungary, we love you and your obsessive devotion to man-on-man action...) XDD

Son-Of-Beyond-And-Blood: I'm sorry, but did you mean 'Beyond' as in Death Note Beyond? If so…I fucking love you. Have meh babies! :D

lilalovex: I like the second option better. But that's just me. (Hint hint: So am I.) And a lot of people fan girled over that chapter, don't worry, you are not alone. ^_^

Gaby Elric: (Your name = Mini Fangirl-asm. *Q* I love FMA, and FMA:B! Your name brightened me up after my professors tries to crush my soul with shet-loads of work.) One; dark feelings are always appreciated. ^w^ Two; I love you too (your name…*drooling*) Three: I will gladly keep updating, in fact-o, I have a treat-o for everyone here-o~!

KittyKat2583: Oh, I am soooo late on this review. Lo siento, I'm sorry, hun! …The most I can say right now would be that I'll be thankful if you even read this and still continue to follow the story. I'll give better warning next time. v.v

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**Recommended Listening: **"Make You Feel My Love" by Adele

**Pffft, there's no lemon here. Feliciano is merely expressing his opinions on Italians being the best lovers…verbally. Loud enough for the neighbors to hear. *shifty eyes***

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**.:Chapter Eight:.**

_Love Me_

_**[Ludwig]**_

"Feliciano?" He asked again, but once more the slim figure in front of him did not respond. The Italian's eyes were wide, and the wobbling bottom lip was more than enough to hint at upcoming tears. Feliciano suddenly ducked his head, as if unable to meet the other's eyes.

A soft whimper left him, and it nearly tore Ludwig to try again. Roderich had told him it would be for the best, if he came out now, versus later. He had come home, to his shared home with the one who would always make it home, and he had asked. He wanted Feliciano to say it, to say what Ludwig already knew. He knew it was probably killing the other to always lie to be something else for him.

He didn't want to hurt Feliciano further; he was only trying to ease the other's burden. He was tired of seeing Feliciano forget something, while he was trying to play as a woman. That his make-up was of, when it was flawless. That his hair was falling, when only one curl was on display and that one being what Ludwig had always assumed to be out.

He was tired of seeing Feliciano, when he came back, spring from thought. He was tired of seeing that question in his eyes, when he asked how he had been. How he always seemed to avoid asking if he was ever going to coming again…even if, that was the only question that needed to be asked.

Ludwig knew it, and he knew Feliciano knew it. He was trying to be his best for Feliciano, but he felt like he couldn't be. He was hiding something from the one who told him nearly everything. He was hiding something that could either break them apart, or bring them further closer together to protect each other.

Ludwig wanted to keep Feliciano. He didn't want Alice or any other noble demon female. He would only take the bride he had chosen for himself. That said bride was a male didn't so much as matter to him, he would find a mistress to keep the Beilschmidt lineage. He would hope that Feliciano wouldn't mind, at least, not as much when he was told that he was the one to raise the child.

Ludwig was going to tell him everything, everything that he had been hiding this whole time, and hope for the best. He wouldn't be able to show Feliciano everything now, but he could make a start. He would finally show himself as honest as Feliciano was with him.

Ludwig would ask that Feliciano be honest with him. He wouldn't bring up the Vargas' closet skeletons; he didn't think that Feliciano was the type to get involved in that sort of thing. He couldn't see Feliciano doing that sort of thing. Sweet Feli…it was the image of him as simply hurting anyone, on purpose, and with intent to kill. Well, it seemed – the idea seemed ludicrous to him, to put it simply.

But no more, Ludwig was going to banish all of his fears that Feliciano could be hiding something more from him. He was going to banish the dark and lingering thoughts from his mind, and replace them with only the truth. The peace that this reveal would offer him, it would no doubt calm him.

But Feliciano's reaction him…it was there that was where his worry came. Ludwig didn't know if or about anything that could mean that Feliciano took after his family. He was male, as all of the Vargas were, like Roderich said. But what if…What if Feliciano wasn't actually involved in any of the Vargas' bloody relations with demons?

What if Feliciano was as innocent as he seemed? There was only one way to find out. Ludwig reached out, trying to appear as nice as he could, making his voice softer and less firm. He was trying to be gentler with his question. "Feli…I need to know before I can tell you this," he tried to explain. He could do this. Roderich said it was expected of him to be honest if he really cared about Feliciano. "It's very important to me, that you listen and tell me."

Feliciano bit his lip, and Ludwig almost thought the other male was going to say no. But instead, the other was using small, sun-kissed hands to wipe the wet streaks from his face. Amber orbs looked up to met ice-blue ones, and then Ludwig saw the determination and love in the eyes he had long ago fallen for.

"I-I…" Feliciano began, and then he took a deep breath. Feliciano looked Ludwig in the eye, "I have kept this a secret for a long time." Ludwig met his gaze, never letting it falter, as he forced himself to blink. He waited for Feliciano to continue. "I've had this secret, since I came to America, Ludwig."

_It's an old secret_, Ludwig thought. _I'm proud to see, that he's kept it up this long._ But then he shook his head of that thought. It sounded like he was insulting Feliciano. That he never would have thought the other to have kept up a secret that long, without one fallout.

He tried to keep his mind trained on the one thing that mattered: Feliciano was telling him. The Italian was allowing for him to be the very first one he told. The one he would allow to know the truth. Even if he already knew about his secret, Feliciano was still telling him. It still warmed a part of him that Feliciano felt that he could trust Ludwig so deeply.

Feliciano trusted him. Feliciano must love him. Feliciano loved him. He hoped Feliciano would continue to love him, even after Ludwig told his secret. He could only hope that Feliciano didn't run away, or tell his grandfather and father about him. He knew they wouldn't listen to anything he had to say then, and wouldn't hesitate to kill him.

Indeed, kill him. Ludwig doubted that, after seeing Feliciano's face so terrified with his true self that he would even try to defend himself. He doubted he would even fight. If no one stopped them, then Ludwig knew that he just might surrender and allow himself to be killed.

His death would spark a war, however, something he would never dream of letting Feliciano see. Wars did bad things to already strained relations. He had seen this firsthand in how distant his father had acted, when he was around him during a war….If he was around, at all.

Ludwig was mentally reprimanding himself for going off the topic of the beautiful creature looking up at him. Questions and answers ran through those amber eyes. Who would be the first to say something? Would it be Ludwig or Feliciano?

Feliciano looked at Ludwig, his shoulders seeming a bit stiff, as if he was cold, when he was only afraid of an answer that he feared could break him. An answer that would either make his world better or send it to the Hell he had always known was just behind him, with every day that he had hid from Ludwig his secret.

As much as he wanted to tell Ludwig, the fact that the other had only reached to him now…it scared him. Badly. He felt like he had made a mistake, not in choosing Ludwig, he could never bring himself to regret that night in the alley where he had met Ludwig.

No, he felt like he had made a mistake in not coming out sooner. If he done so… would Ludwig still have come back to him, not for his make-upped face and pretty dresses? Had Ludwig ever come back to him, at all, just because he was pretty?

Feliciano's hands gripped at the waist frills of his deep red skirt. Had Ludwig ever come back to him for that? Could Feliciano still pretend to be the beautiful wife that Ludwig wanted, after this? Could he could still go on about, still pretending to be something he wasn't with the one person he thought he could be truly himself for?

**Would it be the grandson of the Italian Mafia, and descendent of the demon hunter, to speak…?**

Ludwig looked at Feliciano, his own ice-blue eyes laced with his own apprehension. He wasn't stiff, in the same sense as Feliciano. But he wasn't calm, and the silence of the usually talkative and giggly Italian had put him on edge.

He wanted to hear Feliciano tell him, but what if the other couldn't accept his secret? What would he do then? Allow himself to die as he had originally believed would happen? Would Feliciano even bother to save him, did the Italian love the same thing that his family hunted?

**Would it be the demon prince, with legions and jewels at his feet, the first to speak?**

**Who would it be: the demon prince or the direct descendent of the demon hunter?**

That question was answered when Ludwig made a move to open his mouth, just as Teri made to conveniently knock over a lamp and let gravity create a loud crash to stop Ludwig's words. It just Feliciano just the small adrenaline that he needed to just blurt all that his tongue had been tied upon.

"I'm a boy!" Feliciano blurted, as tears sprang to his eyes. The words seemed to tumble from his mouth, unbidden. Everything he had ever wanted to say, but would give his secret away, he just said in a rush. As if talking faster would help him to get it over with sooner.

Feliciano told everything, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Mi Dio, I'm a _boy_, I'm sorry for lying to you! I thought you wouldn't want me as a boy, so I just kept pretending!"

Ludwig blinked, his mind having gotten back its track, since the lamp's demise, and he just listened to Feliciano sob every woe he had with his own lie. He felt his hands twitch at his sides, in their gloves. Feliciano just went on, "I'm so sorry, please don't hate me, and you have to stay with me, please! Don't leave me, please, don't leave me! Mi Dio, you can't –please, don't leave me!"

The Italian looked like he was about to go on, his tears had already beginning to border on sobbing, as Ludwig felt the instinct to protect what he viewed as only truly his. Not as the Prince of Hell, not as a member of Royalty or some other fancy title, but as Ludwig. He felt the instinct, the nearly overwhelming impulse to protect Feliciano. He was the only one to ever make him feel such a way.

Ludwig's hands were a blur, as his hands took ahold of Feliciano's shoulder, as he pulled the Italian close. His words were a mere warm breath by Feliciano's ear, as he said, "Danke, thank you…"

Said Italian had only a moment to think, to try and clear his jumbled mind, before he muttered, "Please, don't leave me, Ludwig. I'm sorry, but I love you so much…please don't leave me."

Ludwig felt a tremor go through him; it wasn't a shiver, but something else. Something that made his eyes grow a darker blue, almost the color of the day lit sky, before they swiftly changed back, as he replied, "I would never do that to you, mein Feli. I was more afraid of you leaving me."

Feliciano raised his hand, and Ludwig answered the question there behind those tear filled orbs. The German said, "I am not to supposed to be here…I shouldn't be here, with you, in your home. On the surface, period."

The confusion grew behind that oval face, but Ludwig tried to clear it for him. "In a fairy tale, I would be the one slain and the one whose death is rejoiced. I am the evil monster, who has taken away the beautiful princess."

A dark chuckle left Ludwig, a small remembrance of when he was little and he had heard of what the humans had wrote of demons. They were monsters. They were evil. They were the Devil's spawn and toys. "I used to think that if you knew what I was, you would run away. You would never want to see my face ever again, without the aide of Holy Water or burning sage."

Feliciano's confusion was lightening, but his mind was still unclear. Puzzle pieces were being given to him, and he was trying to put them together, but for some reason…he felt like he shouldn't put them together. He felt like he should have left the pieces as they were. As if, they were just pieces, not as a whole picture. That he would be better off, if he didn't know the truth.

Feliciano knew otherwise. He let Ludwig continue, and the shock over his face, when Ludwig gave the last hint: "Your brother and grandfather would see to it, that I was burned alive at dawn, and then desecrate my ashes."

"Wait, you're a…" Feliciano's lips were struck stunned, and he couldn't finish the last word. But Ludwig didn't say it; he let the air answer for him. The air answered for them both: It brushed by Ludwig's eyes, and the light of the moon caught against his eyes just right. The light and angle, the air and its brush, made Ludwig's ice-blue eyes flash totally black in the dark room.

Feliciano made a small gasp, as he reached his hand up to touch Ludwig's face with new recognition. The strange warmth; the pale white of his skin, eyes and hair, they all made sense to him now. The way Ludwig only came back to him at night, and would leave before dawn. Before, he had always thought to himself, it was coincidence or that Ludwig was truly special.

But no…He was a…a demon.

"But if…your cross," Feliciano began, as his fingertips traveled down to the black metal. His fingers lingered at it; as it was the one he had given Ludwig long ago. His grandfather said it was a blessed. Low level demons couldn't touch it…

"Ja, yes, you noticed how I'm not in pain," Ludwig said quietly. He was already waiting for the shock and fear. He was waiting for the one to break his shell from the world, to reject him and throw him out into the cold. "I'm –"

"Royal blood, like in the stories nonno liked to tell Romano and me," Feliciano said quietly, as he traced his fingers over the metal. "You can wear it, because of your ancestral roots. Few things can harm you, a trait which makes you a natural leader." The metal was warm, almost like Ludwig's skin, but not quite there. It was like a comforting heat, like the feel of metal that you had held in your hand for a long time.

Feliciano was quiet, and then giggled brokenly, "I'm in love with the King of Hell."

_Prince,_ Ludwig mentally corrected_, I'm the Prince of Hell, not its King. My father is still alive._ But he couldn't say this; he was trying too hard to not follow the instinct to move further. Something about the way that Feliciano was now entwining their fingers…they felt just that more closely together. They felt…more connected.

They were…something now. He couldn't describe the feeling, but when Feliciano looked up; the Italian found that he could see it in the other's eyes. It was such a powerful gleam in those blue eyes, it brought out the best of Ludwig's face. It made him even more alluring than he even already was.

Something was bubbling up in his belly, something akin to being really happy. But while, he knew that he was extremely happy to know that Ludwig was going to stay with him…it was something else. Somehow, it didn't feel like it was his own feelings or thoughts…

But something told him to love Ludwig. Something told him to reach up and show the German Prince of Hell that he was here to stay by his side. Something…it was telling him to do things, and Feliciano felt like he wanted to go on those impulses.

He was going to show Ludwig that he loved him. He would prove it here and now. He would push the demon Prince Title aside. He would push nonno and Romano aside. He would push away the fact that he had hidden from Ludwig and how Ludwig had done the same, to help their minds to ensure the other's presence in their lives.

Feliciano looked into Ludwig's eyes and silently whimpered softly at the power behind them. He slowly reached up with his arms, and wrapped them around Ludwig's broad shoulders. Their lips met in a searing kiss.

**This was it. This would be the night Feliciano finally gave himself to another, to Ludwig.**

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SMUTSMUTSMUT

The Italian's heart sped up, and he moaned softly, feeling Ludwig's strong arms wrap around his waist. He squeaked, feeling Ludwig squeeze his hips. Already things were picking up, and while neither Ludwig nor Feliciano would realize it then – but their bodies seemed to fit like two puzzle pieces at that moment. Each curve and side: Each and every motion fit the other's form perfectly.

Ludwig kissed Feliciano, more passionately than he ever had before, wasting no time in tasting his soon-to-be lover's lips. But then…it would almost as if their bodies already knew how this was going to play out. At first, it was only heated kissing, which then led to several more, and before long: Ludwig found himself shoving Feliciano up against the wall, lifting his leg, and pressing it against his own hip as he ground against Feliciano softly.

Feliciano threw his head back and moaned, breaking Ludwig from his lustful cloud. He glanced down at the swollen lips of the Italian, and picked him up. Reason had seemed to long have left the apartment, as Feliciano threw his arms around Ludwig's neck and let himself be carried into the bedroom, his heart racing faster. He was really going to be doing this…

Something was wrong. And yet, everything felt so right. Everything felt right. Nothing could be wrong, and yet there was something wrong. Neither knew it, but it would become all too apparent when the time came for the truth to show itself.

The Italian felt himself be set down on the bed, but he was given no time to think before Ludwig's lips found their way right back to his. Those kisses, these kisses, they were so familiar. Sure, Feliciano and Ludwig had kissed, but never like this. Never this much passion and desire openly displayed in each and every one. Like the other thought their last moment could be their next, and they would rather die in the other's arms, than anywhere else.

Ludwig moved away and trailed soft, sweet kisses down Feliciano's jaw and neck. His tongue flicked out and tasted his love's sweet flesh. It drove him mad, for some reason, because now: being able to feel the hot blood pumping beneath Feliciano's skin, it just felt like he was going mad. He wanted to so badly to taste more than the flesh, but rather the crimson nectar that flowed through the Italian's veins.

But never before, had he bitten Feliciano before. He had taken blood from others sure, but once he had gotten their blood, he could feel his palate being satisfied. But now…with Feliciano, right now, he couldn't think of anything he wanted more than to feel and taste all that the Italian had to offer.

Ludwig's hands gripped Feliciano's hips, pulling him closer as his lips once again found the softer ones. He was careful not to hurt the Italian, as he pulled the blouse from his body, revealing his lightly olive toned chest. No breast, just as he had been told. Feliciano was a boy, a young man like him. but that didn't deter him in the least.

"L-Luddy…" The Italian below him whimpered softly, mostly in embarrassment. Feliciano tried to cover himself. But Ludwig grabbed his wrists and held them back, as he let his face come to rest against his chest, where he felt the human's heart beating wildly. For some reason, the beating reminded him of something. The rhythmic thumping intrigued him, it enticed him, it teased him and it made him want to see what he could do to get it to rush faster.

The German licked his lips, and pulled away before he did anything regretful and stared down at Feliciano. However, his vision was marred by a large purple mark on Feliciano's wrist, where he'd previously held him. He hadn't even realized that his grip on the other had grown too strong. He hadn't even realized when he had even lost a sliver of his control.

"Feli, I-" He was cut off, when the Italian brushed his leg up against Ludwig's thigh. The German demon groaned softly, and felt his resolve slowly slipping. But somehow, it wasn't his resolve. It was something else. Something else was breaking, thankfully not bone, but it was something. Something was changing. Right then, he could feel it. But only faintly, it was nearly impossible for him to sense whether it was good or bad.

Nevertheless, Ludwig once again captured Feliciano's lips with his. His teeth grazed over the plump lip but he groaned, breaking the kiss before he did anything regrettable. His fangs were already taking more than peeks and tastes at whatever Ludwig's mouth met. Those fangs were positively itching and twitching for what was below that soft, olive skin. And Ludwig didn't know why, normally he could control himself very well, but right now…

It was like, he was someone else. There was someone else in his skin, doing these things, wanting more of things that Ludwig himself had never even thought to take from Feliciano. It didn't feel like his inner demon, but it didn't feel like him either. Who and what could this be to make him lose so much control, with only the barest of touches to spark it?

Ludwig groaned, as Feliciano's hands slipped under his shirt and pulled it away. The feel of those hands were so familiar, as if they had gone over him more than this one time. Those cool hands explored his muscled chest, tracing indentions, fingertips kissing tensed ones and relaxing them, while sending relaxed ones into a near painful knot with their teasing. It felt like a familiar finger dance to him, and yet he had never felt or seen it before.

He looked down at Feliciano and hurriedly pulled away the rest of his clothing. The removal of the skirt brought up the scent of young male, the true scent of Feliciano, and another. It was almost floral, in a way, and then similar to that of a country area in full bloom. Ludwig inhaled deeply, loving the way the scent seemed to intoxicate him. He wanted more. The demon looked down at his naked Italian and grinned devilishly, leaning down to capture his lips once more.

He could feel Feliciano's member pressing into his thigh. The feel of it made him want to push things further, and he took a chance. Ludwig reached between their bodies and stroked the smaller male a few times, eliciting sweet moans from his lover's lips. He needed him, so badly, as if he truly thought he would never get this chance again. He didn't knew why he felt this why. But he knew he couldn't wait another moment.

Ludwig pulled back, and out of pure instinct of that feeling within him, the feeling of someone else doing these things, he sunk his sharp teeth into his own wrist, letting his lifeblood flow into his mouth. He mixed the crimson liquid with his saliva, creating a mixture he knew would help his lover. The demon raised his fingers to his lips and coated them well in the mixture.

Feliciano whimpered in anticipation, when Ludwig's fingers gently brushed his entrance. The care the German used was one of devotion and adoration. But it was also one of someone who knew what they were doing, and knowing full well how to get what they so desired.

The Italian watched Ludwig, slight fear gripping him, but more powerful than that was the love he could have sworn seemed stronger than he had remembered he had ever felt about anyone. Not that he was afraid of Ludwig, no, he trusted the German with everything he was, but rather… he was afraid to give this up to anyone, and yet…he was happy that Ludwig was the one to take it. He knew he was happy to give Ludwig this part of himself, and he knew he would give it over and over, if his virginity could last that long.

He hissed as a stinging sensation came over him. Ludwig had entered him with the first finger. He knew it was supposed to hurt, but this was strange stinging. It was a warm burn, well, it started as one…and then it grew into something else. The pain was no longer existent.

A second finger was added. The warm feeling within him felt like it was spreading, and it was spreading quickly, like wildfire through Feliciano's veins. Feliciano squirmed, but no longer in pain. It felt…wonderful. He hadn't thought it would be this good.

Feliciano let out a soft moan, and bucked his hips to meet Ludwig's fingers. The German let out a guttural moan, feeling Feliciano move to meet his fingers over and again, and then he added the third and final finger, making sure to coat him with the blood and saliva mixture before thrusting his fingers again, this time straight into a certain gland. His fingers found it so easily, almost immediately after entering, and when they teased the surface, it brought out one of the sexiest reactions that Ludwig had ever witnessed from Feliciano.

The Italian moaned loudly, throwing his head back in pleasure. Ludwig bent forward, letting his nose nuzzle into Feliciano's neck. His blood, something he had never tasted, and yet wanted so badly… he could feel it beneath his skin, begging to be tasted. However, he pulled back again and let his fingers fall away from his lover, as he pulled away his pants, releasing his swollen member from its confines.

The demon coated his fingers once more in the special mixture and then he transferred it to his staff. He wanted to make his lover feel good. He would never forgive himself if Feliciano looked back on this night and remembered only his share of pain, and having met none of the pleasure and passion meant.

After positioning himself, Ludwig kissed Feliciano's neck, before he was easing inside him roughly. He couldn't wait. He had to be inside the man. Something, that other thing in his skin, couldn't wait to connect with the man below him. As if they had been apart for so long, and the time and distance having created an impatience for him.

Feliciano let his head fall back, and he let out a deep moan. He had been told it would be painful, at first, but this…he lifted his legs slightly, as Ludwig began thrusting faster.

This was … _amazing_. Mi Dio, the poor Italian thought he was seeing stars and silly things over his eyes, as he felt some of the best sensations shoot up his spine and numb his mind with pleasure. He couldn't even bother himself to think, or to form complete sentences –let alone, words other than Ludwig's name – with his mouth.

Ludwig gripped onto Feliciano's hips, his movements becoming more rapid, needier. The sweet sound of Feliciano's voice hitting his ears was driving him mad. All of it, he was slowly going mad. Why had he never done this before? Something was on the verge of snapping within him. He didn't know what, and nor did he really care. He bent over and pressed his body close to the Italian's, and buried his face into his neck.

The coppery haired man wrapped his arms tightly around Ludwig's body, digging his nails into the demon's back. He didn't think he could take much more, a fire burned in his belly and he felt at any moment that he would burst.

"Lu-Lud-ah~!" The Italian moaned. Ludwig groaned. Something about those sounds, whatever it was and whatever it was triggering within him, it didn't matter – The point was: He loved every noise Feliciano made.

"Ludwig! Oh, dio, Ludw-mmm-" Feliciano continued, gripping to reality, as his mind was being lost to the pure ecstasy. All he could focus on was the pleasure, and Ludwig's soft grunts beside him. That was about it for him, asking him to do anything else would be asking too much of him in his pleasure-hazed state.

Then, the German growled, his release quickly sneaking up on him. He thrust harder, more desperate for the relief; he wanted to know when he would be back in his right mind. He felt like he had no control of himself, this way, and yet somehow…he liked himself this way. This was the freedom of will that he had only with Feliciano.

Seeing said man panting below him, face pink and eyes half-mast, Ludwig moaned loudly, before sinking his teeth into Feliciano's neck as he came, his seed spilling deep inside the Italian man.

Feliciano yelped at the pain in his neck, but a warm heat spread throughout his body, replacing the pain as he moaned again, "Ludwig!" He tilted his head to the side, to allow Ludwig better access to his neck, as he, too, reached his orgasm and coated their chests with his essence.

He would remember that feeling, the ecstasy of climax and then Ludwig's bite melding together. It was one that he hoped he would and could never forget.

Ludwig pulled away from Feliciano's neck and let his tongue flick out to clean to bite wound. His tired eyes caught the sight of two tiny dots, clean and barely noticeable against Feliciano's skin, even less so with the advantage of the Italian's long hair.

He lay down beside Feliciano and held the smaller form close to him, contented smiles crossing their lips. The German let out a soft sigh and began dozing off, despite how late it was getting. Feliciano, however, lay awake, staring off into nowhere, his amber eyes becoming darker.

He was not dying. For that, he was surely certain…

**So what was this feeling spreading through him? **

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

Put down the motherfucking rock that I know you are all holding to throw at me right now.

Put it down. _Now_. Down.

Thank you. *acorn thrown at me, like Lithuania*

Pffft, this chapter did not come as I wanted it to…but after rewriting it at least twice (first time: precisely 6k, second: mid-6k to late-7k), so I think I have the right to say: "Fuck it, it's fine enough."

I need my pills. v.v

**This chapter's smut scene is brought to you by: StarBucks and Starburst.**

(Pfft, okay somewhat, because of [yeah, Starburst stuff] and that I wrote some of this, instead of doing my homework, at a StarBucks…but yeah. All credit for the smut goes to Lady-Prien. )

**I have nothing to do with any nosebleeds, heart attacks and any and all noise complaints of fan girl screaming. That is all.**

**P.S:** I have not forgotten you guys, like I promised; I just had to pick myself up! I am still alive, and still working to keep this account alive and running!

…Although it's kind of painful, seeing as I fell **UP** a flight of stairs, and my Ukraine-ness took the fall for my face – but not for my left hand. So now, typing kind of hurts. (Sucks to be a leftie. v.v)

**READ AND ****REVIEW!**


	9. Bad Blood

**Hell's Tango**

**Rating: **M

**Summary:** AU The young male was often seen in one of the girls' dresses, singing atop a piano. That's how he found him. He was beautiful; pure, ripe for the taking. However, he couldn't bring himself to silence that pretty voice…Demon!GermanyxFlapper!Italy

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

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**Recommended Listening: **"Breathless" by Asking Alexandria

**Long time, no see, my fellow reviews/favorites and followers, I missed you all like a Prussian misses a party. ;w;**

**But this German has returned with an update, to better help you all enjoy your lives.**

**WARNING: Lovi language (which is a warning in itself), violence, demons, and other themes.**

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**.:Chapter Nine:.**

_Bad Blood_

_**[Romano]**_

Running down another alley, still blasting off clips as fast as the gun could send them off into the snarling beast behind him, into its mouth. Romano kept his trained amber eyes on his target, as he forced himself to stop, and stood at the right stance to deliver another round, before the clip was emptied.

The beast roared; it's sound nearly audible to humans as a high-pitched screech. Romano didn't even flinch. He was used to the roar of hellhounds. That didn't mean he was lazy on the job either. If anything, experience made him all the more vicious.

"Die, damn it!" He snapped, through the grenade in his mouth, as he threw out the empty clip of bullets from his gun. He needed to keep moving. He couldn't stand still and refill this. That thing would kill him before he even had a hand in his pocket.

Truth be told, the beast snarled, and then roared as it lunged at him. Romano made quick progress with identifying his surroundings, kicked a trash can and aimed it to hurl at the beast's face. The creature phased, and Romano took off, right as the beast landed several feet away to begin dashing after him again.

Huffing for breath, and rounding another corner on the outskirts of the shipyard, the Italian hunter threw out an arm to catch the upcoming street lamp and then swung himself up and around on it, to rip something of its protective clip.

The red grenade flew, a bright seizing inwards as it soared through the air. Romano slid down quickly and then took off running again, he had to keep running. He needed distance between him and that grenade.

The beast made a sound, an interrupted roar before the grenade ticked and then went off with a nearly inaudible boom.

Romano was already nearly half a mile away and still going. He tore through his pockets, trying to snag a clip to refill his gun. Just as he found one, and had it clicked in place, he heard the thunder of hooves. "God damn it," he swore, "How much does it take to kill this shit?"

He slowed somewhat to better his aim, and then shot back at the creature with a half blown face. A face that was slowly, but surely, growing back. Romano could see the tongue of the hellhound flapping limply as the jaw regenerated and the beast's eye sprouting as blood and gunk to a nearly solid white black mass.

It roared again, the sound louder and making Romano frown. It wasn't an angry roar…it was a—

"Cazzo!" He swore loudly, as he saw two other hellhounds coming in his very direction. The damned thing had tricked him into running into its pack. One hellhound was bad enough, but a pack of four was damn near impossible to focus on. There were too many teeth, and claws and venom-spiked tails to be worried about.

He scanned the area, swore, and then ran across the street. He jumped cars, and shot behind him, glad for that the streets were clear for once. He saw an alley and thought it might be his best shot, so he sprang in and threw himself to a dumpster to jump to the other wall and over the fence. It wasn't his best escape plan, but it might stall him about two seconds.

The hellhounds roared behind him, and knowing he had little less than five seconds to live if he failed, Romano stuffed his primary gun to its holster at his side, and took the twin rifles from his side and then shot. There were some noises from these guns, but this neighborhood was primarily a "dead slums", so gunshots wouldn't really stir much attention. It was a dead area. No one lived here, but hellhounds and the homeless who would be their next meal.

The beasts' black eyes cut through the dark, and Romano broke into another run as the hellhounds broke through the fence, and he thought of another plan. Just as he thought to make another corner, a hellhound lunged to jump in front of him and swung its spiked tail in his path.

It was meant to decapitate him, or if the blunt end hit him instead, then to stun him as the bone crushed his rubs and threw him at a wall. Luckily for him, neither happened, as he threw himself up and over a second before and launched himself at the hellhound, and shot it twice with each rifle in the face before taking off once more.

The beast roared in anger, and its companions joined its angry cry. Romano rolled his eyes, and swore, "Damn it…how do I get rid of these things? Can't shoot three at once, need a focus…need a _something_!"

While he thought of ways to proceed with his mission, the hellhounds were gaining on him. Roaring out with every breath they each took, and starting to cause a disturbance as some of the older and weaker buildings shook from the vibrations.

Romano looked back, and then back forward. _They were nothing if not persistent shit_, he thought. He ran a bit faster, trying to put more distance between him and the hellhounds. If it was the only thing that he could do to reduce the chance of them taking a chomp out of him then, damn it, he was going to run like all Heaven Divine depended on it.

He could care less if Hell was going into chaos, because he was running away. Those demons inside of it were nothing but killers. He was doing the human race a favor, by helping to eliminate their numbers. All of the Mafia was.

Romano saw a lit portion, and his heart nearly thudded inside of his throat. Shit. He had nearly run into the human population of the city. Swearing aloud, as his heart raced even faster, he tried to find a route to lead him back to the slums of New York.

He spun on his heel, only to see the approaching hellhounds, and knew there could only be one thing. Biting his lip, and stomping his foot once in a miniature temper tantrum moment; he made the decision at the last minute.

Taking a good blade from his calf, he eyed it a good long second, as he waited for the hellhounds to come a little closer, before he held his breath and then slit a red path through his palm. He shook his head to get the blood flowing harder and faster, and then braced himself for the reaction.

The hellhounds immediately picked up on the scent of his human blood, the delicious and tantalizing indulgence, and then the added spice that was the sliver of demon blood running through his veins. They all roared at once, as Romano took a lick of his blood to tease them and then ripped the larger rifle from his back. He shot once, at the buildings to create a distraction, and then ran right for it.

Cursing his eyes as they stung at the smoke cloud, and the tiny particles trying to prick his skin, Romano surged through the dust cloud as the building continued to fall, and then threw out his hand as one of the hellhounds turned and caught the blood of his blood.

He slapped its snout, smearing the blood and barely dodging a hellhound attacking the one he'd slapped his blood too, as he jumped onto its back and launched himself out of the smoke. He spun on his heel, and then took out his rifle again. He waited a second for his aim to steady, and then fired.

The moment that the second building of the slums crumbled, he took out his twin guns and shot repeatedly. He heard the hellhounds' cries of pain, but not many of their angry roars. He thought he had them beat, at least enough for him to try to lower his guns, when suddenly he felt pain flare in his middle as a hellhound revealed itself.

Romano was sent spiraling, into a brick building, head cracking against the head surface and his amber eyes flashing dark before bright gold as blood trickled down his head and he started the descent to the ground…starting from the raggedy fire escape at the third floor.

The hellhound had swung the venom-spiked portion of its tail at his side, nearly slicing him in half, and then sent a bone-crushing ball of bone at his chest. It would be the finishing blow to an ordinary human. But Romano wasn't an ordinary human.

He was stuck between cursing his demon bite not being strong enough, and then thanking it for being strong enough to turn the venom's proteins into something of a healing agent for Romano's body. However, he could feel the healing process, including but not limited to: his bones shifting and reforming back into place, blood being shoved out and then remade, and his tissues stitching together.

Romano wiped his mouth, standing on shaky legs, as he huffed for breath. He heard stirrings of rubble and the angry growls of the hellhounds he thought he had downed, and then the one scratching its hooves against the gravel in front of him.

When his balance righted itself, Romano licked his lips, and said, "Alright then, bitches, you want to play rough?"

He held up his twin rifles, "We can play rough, bastards," he narrowed his amber eyes, not even seeing nor feeling as his pupils slit to being identical to a snake's. "Bring it."

The hellhound surged forward, and Romano ran for it, right as his hand ducked into his side and revealed the trusted holy blade, inscribed with magical and cursing words, into its head. Romano then shot it repeatedly with his rifles, and then turned to shoot the hellhounds blasting out of the rubble, as the hellhound he had just killed went down with a desperate roar.

Its body would be eaten later by scavengers, ones that Romano wasn't too keen on dealing with right then. Bracing for a run, Romano ran for the fire escape he had just fallen off and launched himself onto the first floor, as he turned and shot behind him and ran up.

The hellhounds scrambled to follow him, and heal from their injuries. One's head was trying to right itself from being broken and split open. How it was still alive after that, and healing, was a mystery to Romano that he would wait until he was safe to solve.

Shooting and running up the ladder steps, he made it to the top and then dropped the empty guns. He couldn't really reload right now. Taking his primary gun, he chose to use it and just shoot and try to make it to the next building.

Jumping across, he turned his head while his arms were still out. The hellhound opened its mouth to roar loudly, and he aimed and shot clear across the distance. The roar was cut short, as it was shot with a silver and blessed bullet. It fell into the debris below and shook the ground with an unearthly amount of power.

The last hellhound was still jumping the distance, and Romano smirked, as he took the last grenade from his belt. He had to restrict his use of these things. They were too strong to use just anywhere, but too powerful to use nowhere.

"Eat this, shit head!" Romano laughed, as he threw it right at the hellhound's open mouth, and tried to run away. But when he turned, he didn't see a being with red eyes kick the grenade back and put it right in front of Romano's path.

"What the fu-!" Romano started to swear, but the blast cut him off. He screamed in agony, as he thrown back and over the building's edge, right into the hellhound's waiting jaws. Thankfully, the hellhound opened its mouth just right, and Romano crawled inside, right as the blue intensity of power reached them.

Romano had a living shield take his hits, but he still had a long way to fall to the ground.

He felt the hellhound's teeth try to bite him, though weak and barely alive and very bloody. He felt its jaw nearly crush him to the roof of its mouth, but he really felt when the hellhound hit the ground face first, and his forehead made contact with its hard teeth.

He grunted in pain. He was in so much pain. Shit, he thought, what the fucking Hell happened?

As he rolled out of the dead hellhound's body, and tried to right himself to stand, he thought he saw someone flashing towards him. He immediately put his hand to the larger rifle that wasn't there on his back, but snapped in half in-between the hellhound's jaws. He tried to use his twins, remembered they were on the building…that had just blown up along with several others.

He was lucky to be alive now, but he didn't think so he would be alive for very much longer as the red-eyed being swung a fist to punch him in the face.

It was a good sucker punch, as he sent flying though the air and sent to crash through the wall of another slum building. A group of three homeless men looked up at them, fearful and astonished, when Romano managed to lift himself with his arms.

Romano was breathing heavily, feeling the demon blood in him try to keep him alive, as he stood on one shaky leg and one slowly-righting broken one. _Being mostly human hurt like a bitch, when you least want it to_, he thought, as he felt for some kind of weapon on his person.

He found one, his singular gun, surprisingly not that much damaged and still in good condition. He held it steady, trying to aim with one good eye and the other slowly healing from the blood and burns running over it.

The demon revealed itself, or rather himself. It was Gilbert, not that Romano knew this, and he looked pissed. His snow white hair held little to no ash, but his red eyes still holding a burning anger for what, Romano did not know. The red color was glowing, and Gilbert's fangs were exposed and dripping.

"Little shit," Gilbert snarled, as he saw the weapon Romano had trained on him. "Put down your gun, and I might decide to kill you quickly."

Romano shook his head, "Fuck you."

Gilbert grinned, "Maybe I win. I'd love to take you down a few notches, before I rip out your damned throat." Romano narrowed his eyes, taking a step back, being wary of the venom dripping down Gilbert's fangs and what the glow in his eyes meant.

He had been bitten once before, as much as he enjoyed some of the benefits most of the time, he didn't want to take a risk and get bitten again. He might not survive the second time. The demon that had bit him first, it had been young. Gilbert looked old, very _old_; Romano faced death more than benefits off this bite.

"Don't run away, Vargas," Gilbert said, smirking deadly, his voice lisping over his fangs. "I just want a little taste of what's getting around the city. The slums reek of you."

Romano took another step back. _Not good_, he thought, _no buena_! He chanced a look back, and saw the homeless men huddled in a corner, their backs to his face, and right as Romano was about to shout for them to run in English, he heard a whishing sound.

Gilbert flashed through the air, the same holy blade that Romano had left behind in his gloved hand, as he aimed for Romano's throat. Amber eyes widened, and the Italian ducked at the last second, having to drop his gun, and see one homeless man be sliced open from behind. The man's spine was visible, right before the blood spilt onto the floor, and his body collapsed and knocked over the metal drum.

The man in front of the drum caught flame instantly, his dirty rags catching the easiest, as Romano tried to fend off Gilbert's kicks and stabs with very few attempts of success. The last homeless man ran, but he ran in the wrong way, and Gilbert saw him and jumped him right as Romano took a particularly hard stab in the side.

The holy blade pained him greatly, not just from the stab wound and how hard Gilbert had done, but the fact that his little demonic blood was turned to fire in his veins and he screamed in agony. The pain made the voices suddenly all too clear in his mind. They were all screaming at once, screaming at him, and screaming in agony as the demon in him tried to burn human blood to stave off the holy water and silver.

_"Burning!" _

Romano was crawling on his knees, barely huffing any usable breaths, as his lungs began to take in smoke from the burning building around him, and from his demon blood's self-induced suicide. He was still screaming, not sure what he was screaming sure, possibly help or maybe death as well.

"_Make it not burn!" _

"Vargas!"

Lifting his head, it had grown so heavy in the few seconds, that he nearly missed the perfectly placed kick to his bottom jaw. The blow sent him tumbling over to the wall, crashing into it and shaking the foundation, as he groaned.

"_Stop burning!__"_

"Get up, schlampe," Gilbert snarled, "I'm not finished with you, yet, and from what I heard: you can take me more than just that."

Romano growled, his demon side becoming more active in his actions, as he snarled, "Bite me, bastardo."

Gilbert grinned, "With pleasure."

All too late, Romano realized the fatal suggestion he had just spoken, and with what Gilbert –a powerful demon – had responded to him with.

"_Run…! Must run away!"_

He was going to die, he could barely move, and he was going to die. Would he die a coward? Or would he die as a victim of circumstances? If Gilbert bit him, and he didn't survive the venom as a human, that would make him a victim of circumstances, right?

Romano wasn't given much time to ponder it, as he suddenly saw Gilbert's smirk amidst the burning inferno of the old slums building. He blinked slowly, mind already slowing down in his wounded and weak state. He opened his mouth, but he couldn't remember what he was going to say, over the sudden onslaught of pain that was delivered directly to his nervous system.

"_That's enough."_

Gilbert moaned something against his neck, as the demon's strong pale hands took to holding the other down and still. Gurgled screams were still emitted throughout the air, as Romano continued to be tortured through his own blood. Fresh red managed to track down the corner of his mouth, as me sputtered and splattered between his choked gasps and chokes.

"_Make it stop.__"_

Pleasure from being bitten by a demon, it was an old wives' tale. Demon bites were anything but passionate and pleasured. Unless, that is, the demon made the effort to manipulate the human that they were drinking from, to trick their mind into confusing pain and pleasure signals from nerves and cells.

But usually, as was the case at hand, few demons would do so. The remaining few demons who want the human to be manipulated as to not feel pain are usually infatuated with their human and can't be persuaded to kill them after feeding.

"_Make it stop. I said, make it stop.__"_

Gilbert's blood red eyes were a solid black, no whites to speak of, as he indulged himself. He had long awaited a day where he could down a Vargas, and treat them as the scum that they were to him. they killed demons, innocent demons with families and friends.

Excluding the ruthless and aggressive hellhounds and other demonic monsters, demons themselves, tended to stay away from larger societies. They preyed on those on the outskirts, those who were not counted or simply not paid attention to. The people that no one would miss.

Sure, some demons tried to be "rebellious" and feed on some average Joe of the larger societies, and then prey afterwards that the body wouldn't be found or that the human wouldn't remember anything. The last thing a demon who had fed on one of the larger society needed was for their image to be recalled and sent to authorities.

The human authorities wouldn't find them in the system, but word would travel fast to the demon authorities who _could_ do something about it. Depending on how many were killed, after a thorough investigation, the guilty demon faced two choices: Public discipline, where he was publicly stripped of certain privileges, by the Royal Family, and cast off to the outskirts of his own society to be fair game to hellhounds or—

Or if he was a serious heathen to feed on numerous people and get caught, then he was publicly executed by one of the Royal Family.

Either was a bad fate for anyone caught. However, this rule of feeding on larger society and more noticeable people did not apply to anyone of the Vargas line. They were exception. Any and all demons that were found to have caught or killed a Vargas were actually to be rewarded by one of the Royal Family. It was a high honor, because nearly any demon that faces a Vargas never lives to tell about it.

"_Then, fine, I shall help you.__"_

But Gilbert would, and now he would finally know why the Vargas could be so elusive and some of their hidden talents: demon blood. It was small, but Gilbert could taste it on Romano, and he could feel it thickening on his tongue the more he withdrew with the smaller male. The Vargas usually held one or more demon bites, because of an old hereditary blood disorder in which their body created proteins to help break down alien substances and turn them into food for cells.

Alien substances that included demon blood, the Vargas could survive a few bites without dying or fully Turning, because of their own blood protecting their humanity. It was a powerful asset…unfortunately; it didn't seem to work when the Vargas was nearly drained of blood.

Such as Romano was now.

Said Vargas coughed, his vision tunneling and his hearing muffled. Gilbert wiped the back of his mouth with a piece of fabric torn from Romano's shirt. The Italian's neck was thoroughly caked with blood, and all of his veins were visible. In the glow of the flames still surrounding them, and suffocating Romano's mostly human lungs, the downed Italian looked nearly grey and already close to death.

In only a few minutes, Romano had gone from nearly victorious of a pack of hellhounds, to thrown through an old building wall, and finally nearly drained to the point of death. Or was he?

Said Italian tried to say something, possibly a curse, as he thought: _Shitshitshitshitshit. I can't…feel anything. It's not death. But it's not life either. Shit. Shitshitshitshit._

Pain suddenly wracked the downed Italian's body, where once there was only numbness. He coughed, eyes suddenly widening as a burning sensation began in his fingers. Shit, he thought. He knew this feeling. He felt his throat clench and then seize, his body lurched to the side, and he vomited.

Gilbert was still there, and he smirked. "Aw," he began, "It looks like you can sure take a hit." Romano glared at him weakly, unable to get a clear focus of him, before he threw up again. His throat burned, and he swore he saw red in the vomit. But he didn't check. The first and the supposed last time he had checked for blood in the vomit had nearly caused him to starve himself for a whole week. He barely ate.

Every bone in his body screamed and burned him, beginning in the boiling marrow to the tissue and everything that the bone was in contact with. Which was indeed a lot to burn, and enough pain to cause him to breathe heavily in an effort not to cry. Damn it, it hurt. Everything _hurt._

His demon bite was doing something, as Gilbert smirked and watched, leaning back against the burning wall. He was enjoying the show. Romano was coughing, suffocating on the smoke, his human lungs bordering on failure, and his heart pumping still blood, in an effort to save him.

"You could save yourself," the demon began, smirking with bloody teeth, as he casually walked over to Romano and put a boot to the other's injured and bloodied neck. He felt the Vargas struggle weakly beneath his foot, before vomiting again. He could hear their coughs, sputters and gags, their suffocation, despair and pain, and their whimpers.

"Just accept it," gilbert said, seriously. "Either _die_, by fighting the blood trying to save yourself. Or," he began, trying to pretend that he was giving the Italian an option. "Or _live_, by accepting the blood and seeing if your mind is strong enough to surpass the changes."

Gilbert smiled, as he backed off, holding his hands in surrender. He was about to turn and walk away, right as he heard something in the distance. He blinked, and then frowned. Was that a…?

Too late, he swore and spun around to see something he should have anticipated from a Vargas. Only a damned Vargas cold pull it off, he knew that he should finished him off.

Romano had another gun, albeit tiny and not really able to do much damage faraway, but at the distance Gilbert was in, he was in perfect range. Where the Vargas had put the gun, and how he had managed to get it, when he should have been dead, was a question only God could answer.

Romano's eyes were mismatched, a golden one and then a red one, both pupils slit. His breathing was still heavy, but it was leveling. He wasn't being as much as bothered by the smoke; his lungs being strengthened temporarily by the surge of new proteins fueling adrenaline from his new bite.

"Fucking demon," Romano swore.

"Fucking Vargas," Gilbert snapped back. The demon bared his fangs, and Romano tried to keep his gun level. He couldn't miss this opportunity…but then his hand snapped under the pressure from Gilbert's own grip, and he cried out.

"Damn it!" Romano swore, right before he was slugged right in the face. The gun flew from his hands, and scattering somewhere near the flames. Romano was sent tumbling farther to the wall, and smacking his head against the wall. Fresh, more or less, blood flowed from his new head wound.

Gilbert was snarling, his eyes going darker with every breath of smoke he inhaled. Romano felt the adrenaline beginning to wear off, as tiredness kicked in slowly but surely, as he attempted to adjust himself to better defend himself.

Gilbert didn't give him the chance to do so, as he grabbed him by his bloody neck and just squeezed. The demon was seething, and his lisp was painfully obvious. "Shoot me? You tried to shoot me, you little shit."

Gilbert shook the other, and then tossed him to the ground. Hard. Romano groaned, barely able to blink, before gilbert met his eyes with a clawed punch and then attempted to rake his claws down his face. Romano screamed, forgetting everything but the pain, and just screamed. He tried to kick, vainly and weakly, and just screamed.

Gilbert persisted in his assault, laughing like the deranged maniac that Romano had perceived him to be. Then, just as suddenly as Gilbert had come onto him, the demon was gone. He was across the room, and ripping a braced pole from within its hold in the wall.

His eyes were completely black and malicious, his grin bloody and savage. He was laughing darkly and low, as he raked his claws down the pole and broke the tip into a sharper and more fatal point. Romano saw it, and his heart pounded weakly in his ears. The ceiling rafters groaned. _Why did his life suck so badly?_

Gilbert took the sharpened point to the fire surrounding and steadily consuming the building and then let the tip color to a nice and dangerous red. He turned to Romano, and smirked oh so victoriously. He asked, "Ready to die, Vargas?"

Romano blinked sluggishly, and then smirked, "Give me your best shot."

Gilbert made to charge, right before Romano immediately held his breath, and tried to shield his face. Gilbert laughed…. Well, he did, until a rafter stabbed him through the chest. Romano held the puncture, and then waited, until he heard the demon's own screams and then ceiling groaning again. Gilbert looked at Romano, and the Italian only shook his head, smirking, as he said,"We die together."

**The rafters collapsed, not even a moment afterwards.**

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Gooooott daaaaaaaaaaamn, I am LATE. When was the last time this was update? X.X

So sorry, guys, things have really been hectic for me. What with the celebrations going on, coming up, papers to turn in and projects to finish. Ugh.

And on top of that, my flash drive got stolen about a month ago, and I am just now getting back into the groove of updating regularly…or semi-regularly….v.v

WHATEVS, it's all good in the toaster, 'cuz I'm baaack and I'm back with a badass!Romano and demon-fighting update! :D

See ya on the flip side!*

**READ AND REVIEW!**

*If you know where that comes from, I love you. We can be old together. :)

P.S: I saw Hetalia-themed jammies in the store. I was like: "MIIINE!" :D


	10. Before Then

**Hell's Tango**

**Rating: **M

**Summary:** AU The young male was often seen in one of the girls' dresses, singing atop a piano. That's how he found him. He was beautiful; pure, ripe for the taking. However, he couldn't bring himself to silence that pretty voice…Demon!GermanyxFlapper!Italy

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

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**Recommended Listening: **"Mowgli's Road" by Marina & the Diamonds [Black Teeth Remix]

**Wow...it's been a while, hasn't it, guys? I was just going over what I got from the Document Manager from my account on FFnet, and guess what I found?**

**This story gets fewer reviews than it did as a T-rated story. ;.; (I'm so sorry, guys, I had no idea, that the smut was so terrible.) Well don't worry, this isn't smut, just a lot of pain…and teeth, and blood.**

**We are going a bit HANNIBAL BANANAS in this chapter. *quietly melting into background***

**Warning: Violence, blood and a brief mind-blown sensation.**

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**.:Chapter Ten:.**

_Before Then_

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_**[Feliciano]**_

At first, it had been okay. He had been alright, for the most part. Feliciano had only been feeling slightly uncomfortable with the growing sense of dread and heaviness in his middle, but now? No, now, the Italian was not okay. He was way beyond okay. He was miserable.

The Italian writhed on the bed, forehead beginning to be drenched in sweat, and his chest struggling to rise with the invisible barbell lying over his heart. His arms were twitching, and his fingertips burned. His mouth was alit with sparks, but his tongue felt like sandpaper.

He had bitten it, his tongue, and had horrified himself to find that his blood no longer tasted of copper. It tasted sweet, and though his tongue had continued to bleed, and the scent was begging him to swallow, the Italian would spit it out. By the time his tongue had stopped bleeding, there was a noticeable paleness to his face and a clear visual of how much he had spat up each other.

Feliciano had ceased to cry. He cried at each new wallow, and each swell of pain. The muscles in his stomach had begun to tighten and pull at one another by the second hour, and Feliciano's sobs hadn't turned down since.

But fortunately for him, Ludwig was still there to try and relieve his pain. Unfortunately, the demon having had tried everything that he knew, he had little to no success. If anything, in response to his presence at all, the pain would swarm even greater. Feliciano's tears seemed to be permanently etching themselves into his pretty face.

As said Italian was fighting for breath, Ludwig was once again trying to cool down the fever flushing the other's deathly pale so. "Easy, mein liebe," the German tried to persuade. Feliciano only barely managed to crack open his eyes to look the other in the eyes. He opted to force himself to smile, but his face went grim, and he choked as something was being forced up his throat.

The Demon Prince found himself feeling the all more powerless and useless for his young lover, as he saw the fresh blood now staining his mouth and cooling down his throat. Feliciano was even paler now, and his eyes appeared to be growing darker. But the Italian still managed to summon control in his arms and focus in his head to take Ludwig's hand, to say: "I…okay. Wa-water, please?"

Feliciano saw Ludwig nod; how his face was even grimmer than before. As soon as the German had left the room, the Italian heard his fist made to collide with the wall. He imagined his lover's ice-blue eyes burning bright in the darker rooms and then painfully in feeling, as the Demon forced the tears back. Feliciano knew he was crying enough for the both of them, but he didn't mind if Ludwig didn't beat himself up so that he didn't need to add to it. It was alright to cry. His Grandfather had told him that.

The Italian could imagine his lover steeling himself mentally, and taking multiple deep breaths as he ran a pitcher and then a cup of water, only to come back to the room to find the same image Feliciano just as he had left him: Practically on his death bed.

Feliciano forced himself to breathe, as the German held the cup of water for him to drink. He sputtered a couple times, trying to breathe and drink at the same time, but he quickly managed. When Ludwig took the cup away, Feliciano felt drained. His eyelids were drooping, but he knew sleep at this time was not an option. There was too much of a chance of him never wanting to wake up.

But with Ludwig running his cool hand on his heated face; it should not have been a shock for Feliciano's eyes to droop further, as the touch brought brief forms of relief. Add in the German's quiet rumblings to himself, and the little muffled words bringing Feliciano a period of being at peace. Ludwig could take care of him. No matter what, he knew that the German would never intentionally let him die…

Would he?

Shaking his mind of the sudden and intrusive thought, Feliciano concentrated on breathing. Ludwig would help him. He was helping him now, and the Italian doubted that he stop now. Even if a raging fire meant they had to be evacuated, God forbid should it happen – wait, if Hell existed, as Ludwig said, did that mean that Heaven existed too? – Anyways, back to the original topic, Feliciano had no doubts that Ludwig would carry him out to safety, if he couldn't get out on his own.

Ludwig cared for him, Feliciano smiled. He enjoyed being cared for, even if sometimes he was treated like fragile glass. But then again, it could have been worse. There was no telling, in the Italian's mind, just how strong that the German was. He could be holding back his strength, and this was his only defense to protect Feliciano from said strength. So Feliciano would overlook that, even being treated like a wimpy girl did bother him sometimes. Pampering was nice, but it was a whole other subject when it goes too far.

In his internal musing to himself, Feliciano missed the sight of Ludwig's instincts come into play as his other side thought it had sensed danger. The shadows in the room, unbeknownst to Feliciano, were whispering and moving of their own accord. They pointed at Feliciano with their skinny fingers, and their lips pulled back in a snarl that Ludwig only gave right back to them.

Obviously, the shadows were not friends.

When the last had run away, or had scattered when Ludwig gave them a particularly piercing glare, the German went back to taking care of Feliciano. The Italian's temperature seemed to be dropping, which was good, but he was still having difficulty breathing.

Feliciano saw Ludwig bite his lip, and tried to smile again to assure him that he was feeling better. Which he wasn't; despite the temperature drop, Feliciano had started headaches. No, calling them 'headaches' was a severe understatement. These were powerful migraines, the overbearing torrents of pain that made people vomit on themselves and simply wail out as the images in their eyes blurred or were hardly worth trying to see at all.

Looking to his lover for relief, the Italian could have sobbed at the sight. Said German's form was no more than smudges of colors, but his colors were fading in and out quickly, and each time the man moved, it hurt Feliciano's eyes to follow. Even the darkness of the room hurt his eyes from the little light that was there.

At least he wasn't throwing up yet, he had to think that was a god sign. Even though he doubted he would have much else other than blood to throw up. That was what he had spitting up for the past three hours.

It wasn't fair, Feliciano thought sadly. Today should have been a good day, albeit a bit on the overly romantic and somewhat coy side. He had told Ludwig his secret, and the other had done the same. They had made love, and it had been going swell. The German had bitten him, because Feliciano trusted him and let him do it versus moving out of the way, and he should have sporting only a light bruise and a bite mark.

He should have been cooking or doing something else rather than wallow in pain in his bed, feeling as death was drawing out every last second. The German should be smiling, happy to have spent the night with Feliciano, and see his claim on the other young male. He shouldn't been fretting that every Feliciano blinked, he might not see those amber eyes ever again bright with life.

It wasn't even fair, Feliciano started to cry again, and Ludwig was quick to find a dry cloth to dab the water away. The German was trying to shush him softly, trying to calm him down, and make him feel better. But it didn't seem to doing Feliciano any good. He was still in pain. He felt like this had all been a mistake. Had it been a mistake? What qualified being called a mistake, anymore?

Feliciano should be pleasantly limping, albeit sore, around the apartment and should be dancing with Ludwig to some song on the radio. His fratello should walk in, at some point in time, to cuss and swear as he saw the two. He should be attempting to separate the two, only for Grandpa Roma to stop him and tell him to let the lovers "be".

Lovino should be pouting, getting angry at how Feliciano would sometimes limp a bit in the dance and then glare at Ludwig. Ludwig should be ignoring it, even though it would be out of character for him to do so, and continue to laugh and smile with Feliciano. Then, after a while of seeing the utter joy of both their faces, Lovino should and probably should admit silent defeat and smile right along with them. He should be happy that Feliciano was so happy.

They should have all been happy.

Feliciano cried for a long time, and it was visibly wearing down the German's mood. It was obvious that he cared for the Italian, and seeing said young man down and then being unable to make him better or even feel slightly better; it was making the German regret things.

He regretted waking up late. He regretted not checking Feliciano's bite before going to sleep. He regretted biting the other in the first place. He regretted them sleeping together, not to say he didn't enjoy it – far from it – but he didn't like that he hadn't had control of his actions.

This was a result of his incompetence. Feliciano was hurting because of him. Because he hadn't done what he should have done, Feliciano was hurting. The Italian might even die tonight, because of him. And he still didn't know what to do! He wished that Roderich, Hell, even his brother had a scion he had bitten, to tell him what the best way to go about this situation was. He didn't want Feliciano to continue going through the pain, but he wanted a solution not a little treatment to prolong the symptoms.

Speaking of his brother and Roderich, both of them were going to be infuriated with him for not coming back to the palace last night. But Ludwig couldn't leave Feliciano alone like this. He didn't want to leave Feliciano like this. But he didn't know what to do, didn't want to continue feeling useless, doing only little things to ease comfort, when he could easily find the solution and fully eradicate the problem.

But what was the problem?

Feliciano could make up what he thought was Ludwig in the chair that he had drawn up to the bed from the kitchen, holding his head. If the sot hitches in his breathing were anything to go by, Feliciano could almost believe that he thought the other was crying. Ludwig was crying.

Feeling a sniffle and whimper come from him, Feliciano closed his eyes. He was trying to help Ludwig, by fighting the pain for the most part and trying to limit his crying, but it hurt so much. He was scared. He would admit it. He would do anything to get better. He had to get better. He needed to get better. To prove to Ludwig that he was strong, he would overcome anything. Feliciano loved him, and he believed it. He knew he loved the German.

With said thoughts in mind, the Italian tried to hold himself together as he let the pain mellow for a split second, and before it could come back with another upwell of torment, Feliciano was asleep. Ludwig may not especially like it, because it would harder to tell if the Italian was doing better or worse.

Feliciano dreamt of eating pasta in his old home in Italy, Ludwig reading a paper beside him, his family in the background doing their own routine, when the dream suddenly changed.

* * *

Feliciano was looking in a mirror. He was in a dress, but one of very old style and fashion, from centuries ago. It was a beautiful pea green and glossy dress. There was a crisp white apron atop of it, and the bodice of the dress held a small cravat. His bright amber eyes leading to his neck, he wore a small gold chain, and upon pulling out the bottom to see the charm, he found a small garnet encrusted gold cross. It was small though, nothing really fancy.

His hair was even longer, but this time the curls were even bouncier and closer to a lighter shade of brown. He was wearing a white scarf over his head, but held pearl earrings in his ears. It was a contrasting sight against his sun-kissed skin. He noticed that he even had some freckles.

Feliciano blinked in the mirror, and turned to see different angles. He wore high heeled boots that were a very dark shade of brown, nearly black. He learned that his hair wasn't braided like he normally had it; but instead, it was done in an open way. His bangs accented his face, and the hair spilling over his back made his body appear more feminine. He had no breasts, which Feliciano hadn't really surprised at, but he still thought this image of him was beautiful.

"Feliciano?"

At the sound of his name, said Italian turned and saw a woman looking at him. Her eyes were a nice shade of green, not unlike his dress' color, and they were warm with familiarity. Her face was heart-shaped, and although not as sun-kissed as his, hers was still touched by its grace once upon a time. She held a different skin tone, though, so maybe it was different. Her wavy hair was generous and a pale brown color that reflected the light in an odd way that made her skin seem more radiant.

Her curves were great against her form-fitting sea-green dress. Her own apron was ironed precisely, with a pretty red bow tied at her neck to further bring out her skin tone, while the scarf she wore over her head was tied over to shield most of her face from her own flowing locks. But her boyish bangs didn't seem a hindrance, and they were really cute on her. She held a pink carnation in her hair, and her eyes held a twinkle of mischief. She had dimples.

She smiled, as she made a gesture to follow at Feliciano, "Come now, we mustn't keep Master Roderich waiting. His nephews are supposedly coming today, so the house needs to be given a chance to freshen up."

For some reason, despite how Feliciano didn't and couldn't really understand why, his heart began to beat faster at the words. It fluttered, and his chest warmed inside, as his face nodded a bit dumbly and he felt as if his face was splitting with the smile he wore. And yet, as he tried to pat invisible dust and dirt from his pristine apron and skipped out of the room to do said chores, he still didn't have a clue as to why he smiled all morning.

The day seemed to be creeping, too slow going for the Italian's liking, but for some reason, whenever he paused and thought as to why he was doing anything like this at all, he felt a small shiver run up his spine. It was the feeling of someone watching him. But when he looked about, he saw no one. It was eerie, to say the least, and Feliciano didn't like it. He kept cleaning, to keep the feeling from coming back.

As the afternoon finally rolled around, Feliciano was told to start freshening up the drapes in the Red room. Feliciano had no remembrance of where that was, but he felt his head nod and his lips move of their accord. His feet walked away, after that, down several halls to a beautifully decorated room…that was actually more a shade of mahogany than actual red.

Feliciano continued to work silently, but would sometimes hum an old Italian folk song that his grandfather had taught him. But for some reason, when he tried to picture his grandfather's face, he got a blurry face with a rugged look. He would try to remember his fratello, and then came the worst image.

_**xXx**_

_Feliciano went down on his knees at the image of Romano actually sobbing, his eye bruised and swollen. His lip was bleeding, but he was standing as straight as his sprained ankle and bloody legs would allow. He was huffing for breath, and he held a small dagger. Tall and dark shadows stood over his form, and Feliciano could make out that the other was wearing clothes next to rags. They were torn and dirty._

_Romano coughed on a sputter, and then cried out angry Latin, a swear making past his childish face. He looked like he was barely over the age of thirteen, but he was holding a weapon and defending someone. With a sudden shock and then a painful anguish twisting his heart, Feliciano saw himself as a younger child. His hair was long, and he was wearing a dress. Romano scowled, and bared the knife, as he swore, "You'll have to get through me to get to him."_

_Then came the horrid laughter, and with it, the clank of several metal instruments clanking together. The sound of feet on cobblestone, dust rose up from the ground and Feliciano coughed. Romano stood tall, even in fear. But before anything more could be said, there was a white haired young man going for his hair, dragging him to the side, cackling like the devil. His eyes were bright red and his pupils were similar to a feline._

_Feliciano screamed, but when he reached for his brother, he found a mouth kissing it. There was a blonde male with red eyes, blue depths telling of a something unnatural, grinning at him. The blonde smirked, before his mouth seemed to unhinge and then chomp down onto his hand. Feliciano screamed, kicking and trying to pull away, only to receive harder sucks and scratching in return. But it hurt so much, he couldn't wait but for the blonde to let go of him._

_Then the white haired male was back in his sight, grinning, and his eyes looked black in the darkness, aside from the vibrant red pupil. He spoke something guttural, and Feliciano didn't understand. He thought he caught the sound of something familiar, but the thought was immediately forgotten as the albino male went for his shoulder._

_There came the sound of tearing, but the sound continued even after the albino had clamped his mouth around Feliciano's neck. There was so much pain. And blood. There was so much blood. Blood was everywhere, and on everything. It was so much, everywhere Feliciano looked, and there was blood._

_Wetness crept down Feliciano's mouth, made his eyes flood tears, and if the young Italian didn't know any better, he would say that his nose and ears were bleeding too. There was simply too much blood. He didn't know how he was still alive._

_And the pain. Feliciano had thought being bitten once, gently, was bad. But this was worse, it was so much worse. Pain was just torrents going through him. He couldn't think, couldn't barely even remember to breathe. He found himself choking on his own blood, and then having a sort of seizure as his body went into shock and tried to recover. The men holding him down weren't much to relieve his pain either._

_The blonde male's mouth was red; his teeth were red, as he repeatedly found plumper places to sink his teeth into. He loved plucking veins, and then severing them in Feliciano's face. He seemed to moan and laugh; it was something short of seductive, but mostly just dark and sadistic humor, as the Italian cried. He dug his short fingernails into the Italian's soft flesh of his mouth to keep him silent, as he screamed and cried, and there was another hand on his cheek; every time Feliciano struggled, and he struggled often, then the blonde would coo something before abruptly saying something short and breathy and just diving back into the Italian's flesh again. It was as if he couldn't have enough of Feliciano's blood in his mouth._

_The albino was a messy eater, on the other hand, and he treated the poor Italian's skin like annoying wrapping paper, simply tearing it off, and going for the blood and red-soaked pink muscle underneath it. He paid no heed to Feliciano's struggles. He did not coo and he did not speak. He simply tore away flesh like it was an obstacle to what he truly wanted. He ate at nearly everything in Feliciano's arm, like he was fighting for power, against someone. it was horrible, but Feliciano couldn't decide which of his tormentors were worse._

_For some reason, against his own judgment, Feliciano turned his head. He didn't mean to give the albino more space to tear into on his neck, but he did. But what he saw, when he turned his head, made him wish he could his eyes gouged out as well. He would do anything to get the awful image out of his head._

_There was Romano. But unlike Feliciano, who had two captors, Romano had one. While any other day, the younger Italian may have been jealous, but this was not that day._

_Romano had his own blade stuck through his hand, nailing to the cobblestone. There was blood messily splayed across his lips, his tongue having been bitten off, and the older Italian was steadily spitting up more blood, as a brown-haired male tore into his throat even more savagely than the albino was tearing into the flesh of Feliciano's arms. Whereas, Feliciano could still point out what the original color of his shirt, and his flesh was still present in places on his arms where his tormentors focused their feedings…Romano was not the same._

_The older Italian's skin was nearly gone. His shirt was torn open in the front, the corners spread out on the ground. Feliciano could nearly see the physical beating of his brother's heart against the tore dangerously thin muscle. The tips of the older Italian's ribs were exposed to the air, but the brown-haired monster atop of him was still feeding. His torture was still going on._

_The brown haired evil thing atop of his brother just kept on. He was saying something too, between bites and chomps, chomps and bites. He would smirk, making Romano cry and whimper. The man atop of him just giggled and tore into his brother's chest, licking at the place above the heart and then making a mock bite in its vicinity. Death would be assured. There couldn't be a way to survive a bite like that._

_But before Feliciano could see anything more, there was a screech. It was like a harpy's call, and the albino was the first to react. He tore himself away from Feliciano, and then took his companions to drag them away too. But unfortunately for Feliciano, he wasn't given the dignity of dying with his brother. Instead, his brother's tormentor picked him up and laughing, they all vanished. They vanished with Feliciano's only brother and family, the only one that he saw fighting for him. They took him._

_It was only a short time of being left in the cold, his exposed body starting to feel the chills of upcoming death, before he found himself being lifted, and his body went limp in someone's firm hold. There was soft cooing, like that of a loving mother._

_**xXx**_

Feliciano tried to force himself to believe that this was the end of such a horrible vision. Lucky for him; it was. He was terrified, but whoever his captors and his savior were, he was confused as to why they did not kill him instead. They had the opportunity. They could have done it, Feliciano realized with shaky breaths, as he tried to stand again. He shook his head of the horrid thoughts, and surprisingly, he found that he suppressed the memory well. That was not a good sign.

He looked to his arms, pushing up the sleeves, and he saw horrible scars littering his arms like angry pen strokes, but only in a hardly noticeable pale white color instead of obvious black ink. Feliciano sighed, and looked at the broom in his hands. He wondered what he was doing here, in this dream, this vision, what had he done to deserve seeing such awful things and remembering them for the rest of his life.

Just as he was about to throw down his broom in frustration, he heard the creak of the great door being opened behind him. He spun immediately on his heel. Terrified, his heart was beating far more than with just fear, there was raw anticipation included in it.

The door was slowly opened, and the sound of more footsteps registered briefly in Feliciano's ears, but barely appeared in his mind. There was only one thing that made the Italian's heart beat that way, that fast and that hard at once. There was only one thing that made his eyes widen, but not with fear. There was only one person who could such icily blue eyes full of such warmth when they met upon his own amber orbs.

The young man was of fair hair and skin. He had a certain air of confidence and sureness to him, but there was a bright happiness that only the youth could conjure. He was tall, but still growing into himself. He had pale skin, and pale blue eyes. His hair was about to his ears, but smooth, as he took off his hat in respect to nod at a brown haired man with a stuffy outfit and a calm demeanor.

He wore a black cape, which he took off, to reveal a white trimmed black velvet vest over a pristine white shirt neatly tucked into black pants. The only decorations of color on him were the golden buttons and the beautiful red rose in his breast pocket. His dark boots didn't make a sound, as he smiled gently in Feliciano's direction and approached.

"Luddy…?" Feliciano meant to breathe, but what made it past his lips was, "Good afternoon, Young Master Ludwig." Feliciano easily maneuvered the broom into the crook of his elbow to curtsy, feeling his face grow a bit warmer. Or maybe it was getting hot in here. Everyone one was looking at the younger Ludwig, not at Feliciano, as they focused on another individual of the carriage and their taller counterpart.

Ludwig's younger vision disappeared off with the group, but returned shortly later, a certain gleam to his eyes. His face was a bit dusty with childish embarrassment. But apparently, his disappearance from the circle didn't seem to matter, as no one came to retrieve him immediately.

Before Feliciano could make to utter a single word, the German was pressing his lips to Feliciano's pair, initiating it himself for once, and the kiss left Feliciano breathless although it barely lasted over a few minutes.

When he pulled away, the younger Ludwig took the rose from his breast, and wove into the braid in Feliciano's hair. He smiled, as he took the other's hands, "I am so happy to see you again, mein liebe."

Ludwig's younger vision smiled a bit bigger, and his eyes shone a bit brighter, as he said again, "I came back for you. I came back for only you, not my people or my kingdom or my entitlements. I came back to see you, mein liebe, Feliciano."

Feliciano's eyes sprung open. The room was completely dark, curtains shut tight and keeping out even the light of the moon. Something was pooled in his middle, and the Italian found himself startled when he was able to sit up. There was no pain. He looked to his limbs, his arms, they were no scars. The horrible scars of his dream; they were gone.

Teri, his loveable cat, raised her head to give him a sleepy-eyed look. When suddenly, said loveable cat shrieked, and her hair went on edge. She hissed at Feliciano, as if she did not recognize him, and then ran away, scurrying to the kitchen.

"Teri?" Feliciano shocked himself even more with the sound of his voice. Not only was it was stronger with life, it was more seductive, and his accent was even layered on thicker. He had nearly thought he had called a different name, his accent had shocked him so bad.

Said cat's sudden fright of something in the direction of Feliciano's room alerted Ludwig, and a small clank of dishes meeting the counter, albeit a bit more forcefully, and then came the sound of his footsteps.

Feliciano grabbed the covers to pull slightly over his chest, pushing back his hair. He blinked, and even the movement felt strange. It was like everything he did was new to him.

Ludwig came in, eyes looking hard and powerful in the darkness, and Feliciano gasped. His eyes widened, and then the German looked at him. Said man choked, and then stared. With an easily visible shocked expression, Ludwig blurted, "Feliciano, is that you?"

Feliciano didn't hesitate to speak either, as he blurted, "Ludwig? Who are we?"

**Let the dance of Hell's regime begin.**

* * *

A/N: Nothing much to say other than I am tired. Hooray for the New Year? Um, well, yeah…I told you guys that I had nothing much to say. Sorry about the lateness of this, things have been crazy on my end, drama and whatnot, and guess what?

I still don't give a shit. I will still update. Oh, but I guess you guys missed this, didn't you~?

**READ AND REVIEW!**

**EDIT: **HOW THE HOLLE DID 'ETERNAL DAMNATION' GET OVER THIS? WTF? FUCK THIS IPAD. Anyways, I deleted the chapter and then posted over it. Don't worry, everyone. There is no connection between the two stories, it just a slip of a finger. I will try to keep such from happening again. Sorry everyone that can't review again, um, I guess just sign yourself with your username as a guest? ;m;


	11. Familiar Chills

**Hell's Tango**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** AU The young male was often seen in one of the girls' dresses, singing atop a piano. That's how he found him. He was beautiful; pure, ripe for the taking. However, he couldn't bring himself to silence that pretty voice…Demon!GermanyxFlapper!Italy

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

* * *

**Can you spell LATE?**

**B-A-I M-A-R-I-O-N-E-T-T-E, that is all.**

* * *

**.:Chapter Eleven:.**

_Familiar Chills_

* * *

_**[Roderich]**_

The young Princess, Alice, was following after him like something short of puppy looking for a new home. If the demonic butler was being honest, he was getting annoyed by her presence. He was getting tired of having to be the sole one to answer all of her questions – nearly all focused on Ludwig and the life she would been experiencing as a Queen in the palace.

Roderich had already corrected her enough times that she would still be a "Princess", even after she married Ludwig – not that it was going to happen anytime soon, as he had already told her – because Ludwig was not yet a King. The younger Prince was still just that, a Prince. While he was heir to the throne, there could only be one King at a time. Ludwig would only become King, when his father either gave up the crown or died.

Either way, it was happening no time soon, and if the demonic butler had his way at all, it would be pushed off longer so that Ludwig could outlive his little human infatuation. At least, he would have to hope that the human was still mortal. He had no idea of his little sire's intentions with his love, and he could only hope they were pure. He hoped that Ludwig wouldn't turn Feliciano, it would cause more problems than he could cover up, much less fix. As much as he liked pretending to be the butler that could fix everything for the boys he had more or less raised, he was but a single demon, and he could only do so much.

Then, a familiar tingle ran down his spine.

Roderich paused, just as he had done for the past few hours it had come. It was like a shiver, but it was warm. It was odd, too, as it seemed to come from absolutely nowhere. It was much like a whim, coming from nothing and then leaving just as quickly. It unnerved the brunet, and it had been happening all day. He could pinpoint the time it had started – around midnight.

He knew the feeling as well, it came around every time one of the Princes was in danger. It was like a 'Mother's Instinct', or a 'Nanny Sense'. As strange as those sounded, when connected to his image, those words were the only things that popped into his mind whenever he tried to describe them.

The fact that the feeling had come back was slowly scaring him. It was drilling through his usually hard skin, down to the sensitive nerves, and then pulling his mind apart at the seams. He was being driven mad. So he was worrying. And worrying so more. And finally, right as he was about to feel as though he was going off the deep end with the worry, a maid hurriedly came around the corner and called out for him. Her face spoke something serious, and he knew there was nothing that she had to say that would be anything less than serious.

"Excuse me, Lady Alice," Roderich apologized to the young woman behind him. Inwardly, he was glad to be rid of her. On the other hand, he was dreading any news that this maid had to say to him. The maids were strictly told not to bother him, unless it was urgent or a life or death matter. So, this news had to either one of them.

Something in Roderich tried to tell him what the news was, but he made no move to listen to it. He had to have hope. It was only midnight. Midnight. The time of Change and Acceptance. But…something was off, about this night.

"Sir, Roderich, I apologize for disturbing your exchange with Lady Alice," the maid began, fiddling with the hem of her apron, before her dark brown eyes went down to the ground. "But…it is getting late. We will have to set up the Guards soon." She looked back up at the demonic butler. "I told the others to wait, since we haven't seen either of the Princes yet. I know they are both more than able to take care of themselves, but…"

Roderich knew why she would hesitate. Not that she feared treason for her words, but it was the mere worry that all the servants possessed for the servants. Most of them had been working under the Palace since the beginning, had known the Princes since they were in their diapers. Especially, Prince Ludwig, he was a favorite among the entire Kingdom; while Prince Gilbert had won the hearts and lands of other countries, along with the trust of his own people. Ludwig was to be the King, and Gilbert at the Head of the Knights, his crown still intact.

So it was only natural for the servants who were close to the boys to fear for the safety. Especially now, the Princes were usually return back to Hell before the Surface had reached dawn. Gilbert, it was natural for him to stay out a minute or two afterwards – he claimed his albinism allowed him to feel the Surface's version of sunlight with little to no effect; however, no one had chosen to step forward to test this theory.

Prince Ludwig, however, he rarely stayed out past ten. He liked to hurry home, and he liked punctuality. He would often chaste his brother for staying out late, despite how Gilbert was the older of the two. The older demonic Prince took said verbal discipline in stride; it was only when Roderich said something, that he would take heed of it.

Such as it was, Roderich began to wish he had said something about a curfew to the boys. At least, for the time being, until Lady Alice's visit to the Palace was over and done with. Right then, it was not a good time for either of them to be staying out late and worrying everyone. Word could reach the Public, and then only chaos could come out of that. Rumors would start up and the people would begin to fear for the worst.

"What are you seeking permission to do, then?" Roderich asked her, and the maid looked to him for an answer. He blinked and then frowned, "You do not know what to do…?"

She shook her head, messing with the hem of her dress yet again. "No sir. I didn't want to make the wrong decision, and then have the Princes or the Royal Family, altogether, suffer for it. I value my head upon my shoulders." She said the last part sarcastically, and Roderich allowed himself a small smile for the night. He could appreciate the slight humor in the situation. It was not at all unwelcome.

"Fine then," Roderich began, putting a hand to his chin to think. He paused, wracking his brain for an answer. When, all of a sudden, the feeling – that warm shiver – ran down his spine again. He frowned. This one had seemed stronger than the others. No wait, it was stronger than the others. Then it came again. And again. Repeatedly.

Roderich felt his eyes begin to sting, as if there was particles in the air, and his lungs began to feel heavy in his chest. He had an instant moment of feeling incredibly heavy and then weightless. The feeling was gone, as quickly as it had come. But in less than an instant, the demonic butler stiffened.

Then he was giving orders.

"Guards! Conjure up the 1st sector of ground soldiers," Roderich shouted to a stationary Guard on duty. Said soldier stood at attention, listening intently, taking note of every word said and committing it to his memory. "I want them outside the Palace, by the time I get there. You have less than five minutes, go!"

The Guard vanished quickly down the hallway.

The maid turned to look at Roderich, but the demonic butler was busy going down the hallway to his room to collect a weapon. He was going out on a mission, for the first time in centuries, since he had joined the Palace. He wanted more than the simple swords he kept on his belt. He wanted a gun, at least, and an extra round.

Something was horribly wrong. He shouldn't get the impression of death. He shouldn't get impressions at all. One of the Princes was horribly hurt. And he had a good inkling as to which one of the boys it was. He wouldn't feel Ludwig as strongly. Only his glorious little idiot could put him into such a panic, and yet kept at the level of military calm at the same time.

"Sir! Roderich! Where are you going?" The maid called out, trying to run after him. Lady Alice, out of curiosity, after seeing the demonic butler leave her attendance for a maid and then call something of an order out to a Guard, she had grown worried.

"Roderich? What is it? Is everything alright?" She called, as she took ahold of her dress and tried to catch up to the brunet now trying to attach something black and sleek to his person. The maid took one glance at the old blade, and knew immediately.

"Roderich…are they okay?" She began, her voice going level and stern. When Roderich gave her a look, she nodded and said, "I understand. I shall inform the servants and ready the boundaries." Immediately, she turned on her heel and smiled to the young blonde Royal approaching the way to Roderich's rooms. "Lady Alice – Mister Roderich has to attend to something outside, I am to ask you to retire to your rooms and keep yourself busy for the time being."

Alice stopped, frowning, "And on whose orders? What business does he have to attend, that your future Queen cannot be a part of?"

The maid did not even hesitate in her response, "By orders of the Royal family, of which you are not yet included in yet, Lady Alice. If you do not mind my saying so. I am not allowed in disclosing any further information, you must retire to your rooms, now. I can show you the way."

Before Alice would say yet another word, not even a word of indignation at being called out on her social status to the Royal Family, the maid was ushering her out of the hallway and into another one. The maid nodded on her way out, looking back at Roderich, and he nodded back.

He vanished, before Alice had even gotten a chance to see him.

He was at the front gates, in front of the soldiers when a Captain came to him. "Sir, you asked for the 1st sector? Where are we going out?" He didn't even ask why. That was good. He was among the older and more experienced soldiers. He knew that if Roderich called for the 1st sector, there were to be no questions on its purpose. They could be looking for a lost button, but if Roderich called them out to find it, then they were instructed to keep silent and know that they were given only the information that the demonic butler handed them.

"To the Surface," said demonic butler said simply, checking his gun. "Something's wrong, and it involves our Royal bloodline. I want anything other than this unit exterminated. Hesitations are to be considered fatal to the entire Kingdom, and all are ordered to proceed with caution. Need I repeat anything?" The last part was simply a formality.

"No sir." The Captain said, and then he bowed from the waist, and called for someone above in the towers to raise the Gates. The minutes the order was given, a wind blew back Roderich's hair. There was the acrid scent of Hell mixing with small debris of the Surface. The Portal was a swirl of fiery colors and blacks.

Roderich didn't even blink at it, his eyes narrowing and going black. The chill came back, and it was just as stronger as earlier. The demonic butler did not turn back from his stance facing the portal, giving out the last order on a whim, "Should you find a Vargas in this premise, corner it, and send for me. I shall see to its execution, myself."

Roderich was the first to come into the portal, and upon doing so, he felt the Surface world try to influence him. It was trying to make his appear remain in its Human form, but he rejected it, feeling his horns begin to take form on the top of his head and his hair lengthen. His eyesight sharpened, as did his teeth, and his skin hardened to that harder than any Surface stone could ever hope to be.

Putting his feet down on the Surface ground was like making ripples through water. His initial step made a large crater with his sheer presence, before he toned it down a bit to keep inconspicuous. He didn't want anything to jump out at him. As the soldiers began marching in, he shouted out, "Spread it and if you so much as find a hair of our Royal blood, call."

With that, the soldiers nodded and their bodies took on their fighting forms. Their human faces evaporated into mere thin air, revealing the demonic appearances behind it. The blood red snake eyes, the dark scaled skin, and the long teeth. Their weapons varied from battle axes and swords, to forms of archery and even maces and spears. Some even wielded tridents and scabbards. Each of the 1st sector had their own specific fighting weapon that they were trained with; none would be hesitant to use it on an enemy.

Roderich immediately broke into a run, coat tails barely able to keep pace with his constant phasing, as he tore apart the slums of New York for any evidence. This was the exact place that he had been called upon, but the feeling - the chills- seemed not to increase in intensity, on whether or not he was getting closer or farther from his charge.

He just getting the pulse, albeit weakened by something. And that's when he heard it – the snarls. The corners of his lips turned just slightly in disgust. Hellhounds. The damned beasts were banes on everyone's existence. They turned on every kind. Even their next of kin, the demons. No wonder the demons didn't care if hunters found them – they saw it as a burden being lifted from their shoulders.

Roderich barely turned to face the first one that lunged blindly at him. Although his sword did make complete contact through its opened jaws and straight upwards into its brains, in a single fluid movement.

The hellhound came to a final resting place in a half sliced through heap of blood, fur and scales and flesh on the street. Roderich barely blinked, before he snarled at the rest of the pack, barking out in an old tongue, "_Where is mine?"_

The hellhounds whined and cowered at his presence, feeling it crush down on their bodies, while trying to salvage their fallen comrade. They whimpered out, right back in the old native language, "_We not know of who you speak._"

Roderich drew the blade deeper into the fallen hellhound's heads, and turned sharply. It severed completely, stopping any healing process that may have been able to bring it back to life. Another whimpered, "_Hungry we is, not know else. Sorry we is. We not know! Not know! Not know!" _

There was a chorus of apologetic and fearful howls coming from the small pack of hellhounds, and yet, Roderich came closer and repeated his earlier question, this time with a threat. "_Where is mine? Tell or die._"

Before the hellhounds could plead their earlier cries, a supposed leader, or next in line to be, spoke up, "_Spare us, we thought - you was lesser one - like little man - down street."_ The way its jaw was structured, much like a wolf, and its vocal chords not used to it, made the hellhound's English even worse than it already was.

"What other?" Roderich spoke tightly, out of the tongue. He hated that guttural language, but it was only one that hellhounds really knew, or at least, most knew. They were still primitive, compared to most of the other demonic species.

The other hellhounds shrank behind their new leader, although he tried to merge back with them, it spoke gruffly in English, "_Up – Red sign. Never let - get close. Smell blood – Guards_."

It whimpered and then turned its head from side to side, trying to find grip in its fallen comrade's neck and pull it away from Roderich's blade. Said demonic butler gave the beast a look, and it stilled, and spoke again, accent even worse, "_Honest. It - small. Look human – bad smell. It – on West wall. Near - Big Boom place."_

Roderich considered the information, and then pulled the blade free. "Get out of my sight."

The hellhounds wasted no time, and not a scrap of a piece of their fallen pack member was left to take any more damage - or be wasted, when it could be eaten. The hellhounds were not picky creatures in what they ate. They'd eat a fallen comrade if they were hungry enough.

Roderich eyed the large amount of blood spilling into the Surface's nearby water, and then scoffed. It would be the humans' problem. Not his. His mission was getting Gilbert home. He took off in direction that the new hellhound had said. While not to be trusted in taking sides and staying there, one could trust a hellhound to recognize an enemy. The fact that the "lesser one" was still alive, despite a pack of hellhounds being close by, told Roderich all that he needed to know.

"Lesser one" did not equate to "Human" or "Weaker Being".

As he was running through the slums, Roderich caught the scent of blood. It was thick, and it was disgusting. Like an animal had torn into a feast without regard, at least hellhounds had the decent to eat everything so that no trace was allowed to rot and fester. Whatever the "lesser one" was, it could not eat everything, as the chunks of humans and various other demonic rodents proved.

Some of the mutilated things on the ground were still alive, if only barely, like the half eaten human – trying to hang onto life, with his innards spilling onto the ground, blood trailing behind him. Rats were picking at him, as he cried and steadily tried to muster up enough will to keep his eyes open. Well, eye. The other eye could not be spoken for, the same being said for some of his rib cage and a good chunk of the human's shoulder.

Roderich barely allowed a sliver of a fraction of pity to grace the worthless human. He just kept moving, growling slightly, as more of the disgusting scent hit him. He made a call, a high-pitched screech barely on the audible range of even most demons, and his response was immediate. More than a dozen soldiers were at each of his sides, and spoke swiftly to explain the few missing, "The rest had initially gone this way, because of a…smell. They haven't reported back yet."

Roderich barely managed a nod in return of the information. No wonder why that hellhound pack had seemed so small to him. This "lesser one" was strong. Strong enough to take down demonic Guards on its very own. And it had Roderich's Gilbert.

It would keep up its winning streak for long, Roderich would be the one to end it.

The demonic butler ran even faster. Buildings began to blur past him, the smell coming in thicker and worse now. The bodies began to pile up in dark alleyways, along with the heavy sense of dread. A few mutilated hellhounds dotted a corner, every now and again, earning glances from several Guards. A few muttered under their breath, wondering what they dealing with.

And then something sprung. There was only a glimpse of it, a mere flicker of a shadow in the dark, and then there was the horrid screaming of pain within the circle of Guards. An archer was grabbing blindly at his back, where something with blood red and maniacal eyes growled from its perch upon its attempt to tear open the Guard's throat.

Not that said Guard lasted long.

The new 'demon', if it could be called that, had a tail – a spiked one, at that- and it had constricted itself around the Guard's body, the sound of broken bones echoing forth until the Guard's body split in half. Not only that, but the spiked appendage plunged through both the hard armor and the stone-hard skin into the flesh innards beneath, the spikes kept pushing forth until they came bursting forth from the soldier's mouth. The jaw was immediately stretched to full capacity, and then snapped from the socket, a crack being clearly heard, as the spiked tail continued to push through and then back into the body through the eye sockets – both of them.

The body crumbled to the ground in two heaps, a mere gurgled plea making it past the bloodied lips of the fallen soldier. The creature screeched, an ear-splitting sound, and then it was running off with the upper half of the body of the fallen Guard.

"After that thing!" Roderich commanded, dashing after the creature screeching off into the night. The Captain glared at his men, making them snap back into reality, despite having witnessed one of their own so brutally murdered so quickly. "You heard him! Move it! Back into order! We have to avenge him! Get back into formation!"

"Sir, yes sir!" The soldiers responded, immediately going back into position. None of them broke the circle again, and the Captain had a gun ready, in fact, those of many Guards who had guns were pulling them out now. Guards with long range weapons were being put in the front line of the charge.

Roderich kept running, the smell of blood coming in even more thickly, if that was even possible. Then he felt it, the warm shiver. He surged forward, a screech being heard, and he felt the scales on his neck lift up – much like the hairs on the cat would rise – as a prickly spine began to arise.

A whimper was heard, and then the sight of a demolished building came into view. Roderich didn't bother to knock, instead phasing through the door – undoubtedly the reason why the door collapsed in on itself.

"Gilbert! Gilbert!" Roderich called out into the darkness, blood red eyes searching for any sign of white hair and a whiter face. Even the sight of his red eyes, however darkened in his weak state, would have been helpful in finding him. But right as another whimper came forth, that horrid screech came back – and even closer than last time.

Roderich barely had time to look up to see the creature perching on all fours, like a deranged scaly bird with a wildly swinging spiked appendage for a tail, when the beast leapt. However, said attack was immediately dodged by a quick phasing. The creature seemingly startled at being able to go right through Roderich, as it crashed into the remains of the ash blackened brick wall.

"Gilbert, Gilbert, say something!" Roderich called out again, and the creature screeched again in response. The demon butler barely heard the whimper be tried again, and even barely fended off the blurred sweep of the creature's tail. But his blade was about to fail, it was cracking – one of the hardest metals in Hell, besides the illegally made demon-skin armor, was being cracked.

The creature snarled, the sound basically its screech but lower in tone and easier on the ears. Its claws were gripping the blade, and its scarlet eyes visible in the night – that is, they flashed black as the creature tore back, screeching. A bullet just barely skimmed its enamored cheek. It ran into a specific corner, its ears flicking as if listening to something. Then, it dove at something, screeching, and a low moan was heard.

Roderich recognized the moan immediately. His eyes narrowed, and he was running after the creature to the creature, feet barely touching the debris and crumbled ruined stones on the floor. "Gilbert!"

Another screech was heard, and then the creature popped up yet again. It was snarling above a small lump under debris. It looked as though the creature was guarding the heap. But soon, the creature would no longer exist. Roderich would exterminate it.

"Sir! We've arrived!" The Captain shouted, as he and the men finally managed to surround the entirety of the room. "May we open fire?" Roderich eyed the hump of blackened flesh on the ground, heard its wheezy breathing and the weak shudders as it coughed. The fragrant coppery scent of blood futilely trying to sweeten the air behind the acrid stench of demonic blood and the blood of other things, humans included.

Then, the demonic butler caught sight of the creature standing guard over hump of flesh, the broken beams not crushing it – but rather almost, looking like a crude sort of shelter for it.

"No…" Roderich began, and when it looked like no one had heard him, "No! You'll shoot the Prince! It is standing over the Prince!"

"Are you serious?" The Captain began, and sure enough, slowly, everyone began to notice. "Then that means…"

"That this creature is not to taken lightly," Roderich said, sheathing his broken sword and revealing another one. "Draw it from the Prince and then deliver him back to the Palace, as quickly as you are able. Don't let that thing touch him _ever_ again."

"Sir, yes sir," the entire 1st sector agreed in unison. "Sir, yes sir!"

"Good," Roderich said, "Now, let's get rid of this thing. Right- Draw it out! Do it now, I'll be with you!" Just as he said, the demon butler was charging at the creature; using his newly revealed blade to clash against its tails, as more than five soldiers made to attack it from a distance and then close range.

Impeccable aim was made from the remaining party, and only one man suffered a sting from the spiked appendage as the broken heap was revealed to be a critically wounded and suffering Prince Gilbert. One of his fangs were chipped, and one eye was burned over, blood caked completely over his face. That was only the mildest of his injuries, as it would later be noted, he hid more wounds beneath his clothes.

Roderich was barely blocking strikes from the spiked appendage, himself, and more than half of the 1st sector was being used in close combat with the deranged creature lashing at all of them. The creature would not let up on its screeching, always looking for a way to lunge for the Guards stealing Gilbert away. It almost looked like it was in pain, until one saw the maniacal look and saw nothing but pure malice and confusion in those red orbs.

Roderich was pushing the creature back, despite its struggle, and it was taking nearly all of his confined strength to not just drop the act and blow the building up – with the creature in it. He wanted nothing more than to just kill it, as brutally as he may.

But the moment he caught the glimpse of Gilbert being carried through a portal to Hell, and the Captain holding it for the rest of them, whilst still shooting at the mad creature, Roderich grinned. His grin was dark, as his eyes lit up to bright gold and then to solid black. His skin blackened to pure armor, his lips thinning to nothing as his grin became more shark-like and deadly. Soldiers became to feel as though a heavy presence had settled over the room, as the demonic butler began to take off the clasps that he used to keep his Other Self hidden away.

"Get out of there! Move, now!" The Captain shouted, barely able to stand the presence as well. The creature was barely standing up now, its confusion showing, right before Roderich committed an open handed slap to its face and threw the creature into a wall.

The creature was barely given time to respond when Roderich was over it yet again, but this time – to rip its tail from its body with his own bare teeth. The blood dribbled down his chin, as he chuckled, as he let his blood lust get the slightest bit ahead of him. He lost count of how many times he tried to drill the creature's head through the floor. How he stuck its spiked tail and used its own venom to repeatedly stab into its chest until only a bloody pulp remained. He bent it in several ways, tiring of it one way and then twisting it a different way to amuse himself.

He even went to gouge out the eyes, when he took notice of something – the creature was not only still alive, through it all, but he felt a familiar curl brush against his face. He had almost forgotten about it. He grabbed ahold of it, snarling, as he recognized it for what it symbolized.

Vargas. This creature was a Vargas, deformed by demonic blood.

He grinned, as he made to flick the curl with his finger. He giggled, and then grabbed the creature's head so tenderly – before he snapped it both ways, to ensure that he had snapped its neck just right. He laughed, as it whimpered, arms still too broken to be able to turn it back right. Chest barely able to reform, not with the bones broken specifically to slow down the regeneration of the organs with the bones puncturing them. The tail had yet to grow back.

Roderich stood up, his face evil and demented in the night, as he walked out of the body. He grinned, as he said, "Guten nachts, Vargas."

That was the last thing that Roderich said before the building was made to burst into unnatural white flames, by his gloved fingers, only the creature's screeching of pain the sound coming behind the falling rumble of stone.

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**-END CHAPTER-**

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*face desk*

No. I did not pull a Shatterdoll and decide to fall off the face of the Earth. I do not know how to do that with fanfiction. I would probably crawl back to this site, on my hands and knees, if anything. Shit. I don't know.

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